Swords and Spells: The Magic of Emrys (Book One)
by Jade Nocturna
Summary: Emrys has always known that it is her destiny to turn the spoiled Prince Arthur Pendragon into the greatest king Camelot has known since...well, the last Arthur Pendragon. But if Emrys guides Arthur to his destiny, she leads herself to her own doom. Emrys could change her fate, but the Ancient Order would require another life in her stead: Arthur's. Fem!Merlin!xArthur!
1. Emrys

When the King of Blood wanted to make a point, he made it as sharp as possible.

It was midday. With bone-chilling thugs, the executioner's ax fell upon the necks of three accused sorcerers, severing their heads from their bodies. The blood dripped through the stocks and spread across the smooth stone ground. All Emrys could do was watch in horror as the heads were mounted on tall spikes in the palace square for all to see.

Three boys who'd barely reached manhood, now dead for being menaces and troublemakers. The severed heads stared at the crowd with blank eyes and slack expressions. Crimson blood trickled down the wooden spikes while the bodies were taken away to be burned.

The king did not give second chances-especially not to anyone who practiced magic. Sorcery would be dealt with swiftly and remorselessly-and publicly.

Every time that blade was used, a growing uneasiness slithered through Emrys like a heavy mist she could no longer ignore. Camelot had once been peaceful and prosperous and magical-but now someone with a taste for blood was seated upon the throne.

The castle glittered before the crowd like a massive golden crown, its spires rising high up into the cloudless blue sky. It was set in the direct center of the upper town, a walled city two miles wide and deep. Inside, cobbled roads led to villas, businesses, taverns, and shops. Only the privileged and important were able to make this part of the city their home. But today, the gates had opened to all who wished to see the execution.

"There were more than usual today," said Emrys as she shifted her attention from the impaled heads. For three weeks she'd attended an execution and it had done little to reassure her of her own fate.

Such deaths would be considered by most to be destiny. The druids that Emrys had grown up with believed that their futures were set and that they had to accept what they were given-be it good or bad.

Emrys, of all people, knew that everyone's destinies were written in stone. But stone could be broken, and destinies could change. And that was what Emrys was going to do.

"It is the king's birthday." Silas' voice was hard to separate from the incessant chatter of the throng.

The crowd hushed for the briefest of moments before swelling murmur rose again. King Uther had emerged onto the balcony-a tall, handsome man with piercing blue eyes that chilled Emrys' spine every time he glanced over her.

The regal-looking Princess Morgana joined her father on his left side. Her dark black hair was curled around her fair face; her skin shone like a shimmering pearl. She didn't look at the impaled heads.

The crowd cheered as a young man joined the others on the balcony. It was the first time Emrys had ever seen him, but she knew who he was: Arthur Pendragon, crown prince to King Uther's throne. Arthur was a near mirror image of his father, but younger, of course, and with golden hair that caught in the sunlight.

A drunken voice from the crowd shouted out, loud enough to be heard over everyone else: "Fools! Every last one of you! You think he means to unite us as a happy kingdom? Lies! The King of Blood is driven only by greed and a lust for power! He's trying to destroy magic! He must be stopped, or we're all doomed!"

Silence fell.

Emrys' gaze shot toward the king to see if he'd heard.

He had. With a flick of the king's hand, four guards marched toward the crowd, located the man, and wrenched him forward so forcefully that he fell to his knees just left of where the severed heads were on display. When he tried to rise, a guard pushed him back down. The empty bottle he clutched in his right hand fell to the ground.

The man wore what looked like finely tailored clothes that had slowly tattered to rags. His face held a few weeks' worth of a dark beard and he smelled as if he hadn't bathed in the same amount of time. His eyes were glazed with however much wine he'd consumed, but otherwise were fiercely fixed on those who now faced him.

"My name is Noren Wetherson," cried the man. "I have suffered personally at your hand, Uther Pendragon, because of your wretched hatred of magic!"

"Camelot's future will not benefit from the use of magic."

"If you truly believe that, then you've damned us to a future of pain-but I assure you, yours holds the very same! And may the gods deal with me, be it ever so severely, if, by today's end, my words have not come true!"

Noren's sea green eyes lost its blue. "_Gadewch i'r tywydd yr haf, maent, yn carcarem circumvertentem_!"

Emrys could feel the shift of power in the earth; feel her _xoia_ yearn to bind itself to this power-this magic. Her insides opened themselves to the magic around her, suddenly opening her vision to all of the auras around her. At first the mix of colors blinded her, but after a moment, her vision adjusted. Noren's aura was as bright a yellow as the sun, a warning of the dangerous spirit that rested inside of him.

Emrys turned to look at the balcony, and nearly jumped when she saw the silver eyes above the castle. She knew that it was the eyes of the Great Dragon that she had envisioned. She tried to touch the Great Dragon's spirit with her _xoia_, reaching out to him with her very being.

_Please, Great Dragon, where are you?_

With a sudden _snap!_ Emrys was forced out of her connection to Noren's magic. The earth had given him the power he needed to cast his spell. A spiral of wind forced the guards away from Noren and whipped around his gray cloak. With a laugh as the crowd ran from him, Noren disappeared from sight.

The king tried to soothe the troubled crowd and ordered the guards to conduct another witch-hunt. He swore to protect the kingdom from the evils of sorcery.

"Emrys," said Silas, placing his hand on the small of her back, "we should return now."

The thought of going into the castle after the execution sickened Emrys. Besides, she had to find the Great Dragon. "If it's alright with you, Uncle, I'd prefer to stay out a while longer."

"That's fine, but no more than an hour, Emrys-you still haven't completed your chores! And, Emrys, this time, stay within the walls."

Emrys nodded and followed the cobbles into the lower town, where the simplest of citizens resided-and where the dreaded wall ended. Unlike the gates to the upper town, there were no castle guards at the forest entrance. There were only the volunteers from the lower town, and they were more than willing to let Emrys pass if she promised to bring back flowers for them.

Emrys hated to lie to Silas, but there was no helping it this time. She had to find the Great Dragon. Emrys just knew she was close to finding him, but she wished she knew how close she was. There were only so many places the Great Dragon could be in Camelot; and there was only one place Emrys hadn't searched yet: the dark woods, where the Great Dragon's eyes had just appeared.

The only birds that sang in the dark woods were the ravens. They screeched at Emrys as she passed them, alerting the forest of her presence. Strangely, Emrys did feel as if she was being watched by her surroundings. With each step, her heart beat faster and faster.

Emrys tried to hold on to her courage, but the snapping of the twigs around her forced her to turn around and return to the path. Maybe she would be able to convince one of the guards to accompany her the next time she wanted to go. Thinking about the guards made Emrys remember to grab a handful of dandelions for them. After she'd passed out the flowers, she realized she had an extra one.

Emrys folded the flower into her skirts and followed the side streets through the upper town-anywhere that wouldn't take her too close to the palace. It was bad enough she could see the cursed thing from her bedroom window.

"You're back much earlier than I expected," said Silas when she entered the villa.

Emrys smiled. "If you stopped thinking I was so reckless, I wouldn't surprise you so much."

"I suppose I do owe you an apology. I'd assumed that you'd gone outside the walls again."

"Well, I'm not entirely innocent." She placed the extra flower on the book he was reading. "I did go out and pick this for you."

Silas glanced at the yellow weed, suddenly seeming much older. His almond-colored skin folded just above his eyebrows as he let out an exasperated sigh. "I should've known," he whispered. "Don't forget your chores, Emrys."

She grimaced. "Wouldn't dream of it."

"I'd like for you to finish those quickly. I need you to accompany me to the castle later this afternoon."

This time, Emrys couldn't suppress her groan. "I'm afraid I'm still not in the mood to visit the castle. And, quite frankly, I don't know how you can go either. I don't understand why you serve Uther so loyally after he's caused this kingdom so much pain and distress."

"Emrys!" Silas shook his head disapprovingly. "There are many things I allow you to do under my roof, but treason is not one of them. Despite any mistakes he has made, Uther is still our king, and he deserves our respect."

Emrys didn't believe that, but she didn't argue with Silas any further. "My apologies, Uncle."

"We'll go to the castle after you've finished your chores. Hurry, please."

Emrys did as he asked. Her room wasn't half as clean as she'd remembered it being that morning-but that could be easily fixed. Emrys shut the door and raised her hands to the clutter of books and clothes on her floor.

Nothing happened. The books didn't move, the clothes didn't put themselves away, and Emrys' eyes didn't glow the way they usually did when she used magic.

Instead, darkness fell over her, and Emrys collapsed.

Rays of sunshine warmed her skin with the heat of a summer's day. And slowly, slowly, she opened her eyes, blinking to clear her vision. The colors were so vivid and bright that she had to shield her eyes until she became used to the unexpected intensity.

Emrys looked down, realizing that her simple dress had transformed into flowing white silk, a beautiful gown with gold embroidery at the edges of the bodice.

A cluster of fragrant trees circled her. The scent of wildflowers filled the warm air. Soft grass pressed against her palms as she pushed herself up enough to take in her surroundings.

At first glance, the tree that sat in front of her appeared to be like any other, but a second revealed that it wasn't. The tree was much larger than anything Emrys had ever seen-maybe even tall enough to look down on the castle itself. The tree shimmered as if made from crystal, the branches sweeping to the ground like delicate glass feathers. The grass underneath it was not only emerald green, but was swirled together with silver and gold as if each blade had been dipped in precious metal. The lake that rested within the tree's trunk sparkled in the daylight as if coated in diamonds.

It was all so strange and beautiful that for a long, breathless moment Emrys couldn't look away.

"Where am I," she whispered.

"Welcome to the Great Tree of Avalon, Emrys."

Her head whipped back in the direction of the trees to see that a young man was approaching. She fought to rise to her feet as quickly as possible, scrambling back from him a few steps.

"Stay back!" she warned. Her heartbeat like a wild thing trapped in her chest. "Don't come any closer."

"I mean you no harm."

Emrys opened her _xoia_ but didn't see anything to determine his aura. Why would she believe him? She clenched her fist and summoned fire magic. Her hand burst into flame. "I can't promise the same if you dare to take another step."

He was five paces away from her. He cocked his head and studied her hand as if fascinated. "Fire magic is the most unpredictable piece of _xoia_. You should be careful how you choose to wield it."

"And you should be careful when sneaking up on me if you don't want to be burned."

All Emrys could do was stare at the single most beautiful boy she'd seen in her entire life. Tall and lean, with golden skin, his hair burnished bronze, his eyes the color of dark silver. He wore a loose white shirt and white pants and he stood barefoot upon the soft grass.

"I witnessed what you did the last time you used fire magic," he said casually, as if they were having a regular conversation. "Your village elders tried to force you to use your _xoia_ in their presence. You almost reduced everything to ash."

Emrys was still haunted by the smell of burning flesh and tortured screams. "How could you have known that?"

"You'd be surprised what I know about you, Emrys. My name is Baelfire. I am one of those known to mortals as dragons. I've watched over you since you were an infant."

"Dragon." The word caught in her throat and her gaze snapped back to his. "You're a dragon?"

"Yes."

"If you're a dragon, why do you seem so…"

"Mortal?"

"I was going to say 'human', actually."

"I cannot travel through your dreams in my true form."

"Your true form?"

Baelfire smiled. "Watch me." He stepped backward and raised his hands to his sides. There was a swirling around him, blurring his image for a moment, the air shifting, shimmering, turning.

The next moment, his arms were wings, his skin sporting golden scales that shone beneath the sunlight. With a flap of these wings, he took flight. He hovered over her for a moment or so before descending. Before he touched the ground, he shifted back into the form of a young man. He looked down at himself.

"Usually when I shift form, I don't retain my clothing. It's the only difference you would note in the waking world."

"Then I suppose I should be thankful this is only a dream." Emrys changed the subject to avoid thinking about what Baelfire would've looked like in reality without his coverage. "So this _is_ a dream," she said. "And this place? You said it's the Great Tree of Avalon?"

"This is a copy of the forest where the Tree takes root."

"I've never heard of the Great Tree of Avalon."

"Most mortals haven't."

"Is that why you chose to meet me here?"

"I needed to see you, to introduce myself, and to tell you that I can be of assistance to you. I have wanted to do this for so long."

"Then why have you only introduced yourself now?"

"It wasn't the right time before. Although, believe me, of those of my kind, I am _not_ the most patient. It's been difficult to wait, but I'm introducing myself now. I can help you, Emrys-and you can help me."

"Help you?"

Baelfire cocked his head again. "You can put out the fire, Emrys. I mean you no harm today, I assure you."

With a focused thought, Emrys snuffed out the fire and returned her hand to her side. "How can I help you?"

"You are the sorceress I've been waiting a millennium for."

"That _you've_ been waiting for?"

Baelfire nodded. "Your destiny is tied to my world-the Other World. It's tied to Camelot, to Arthur, to me. Your destiny is tied to the _Prophecy_, and it always has been."

A wave of nausea rolled over Emrys, as it always did when someone mentioned her destiny. "You've watched me because of the Prophecy."

"Yes. Many didn't believe, but I did. And I waited until you came to Camelot before I could talk to you. To guide you. To help you. Your magic will make the difference to me, to the Other World."

Emrys shook her head. This wasn't what she wanted! "You drew me into this dream because you said you could help me. How?"

"I know you want to escape from your destiny; I can grant your wish, Emrys."

"By forcing me into it?"

"You think you are only destined to do one great thing in your lifetime? You know only a small piece of what has been planned for your life. I know every bit of it!"

"But do you know enough to stop my death? How do you propose to fix that?" Saying it out loud gave way to the fear that she had been able to hide so well.

Baelfire smiled and said, "By making you immortal, Emrys."

Emrys froze, but only for a moment. "That's impossible."

"It is not. I've seen it done before. And in return for granting you eternal life, you must promise me, Emrys, that you will return the favor and help me as well."

"I promise," she said quickly. "Now, how do I become immortal?"

"Immortality is granted only to those with the purest of hearts. I will know the nature of your heart if you can refrain from using your _xoia_ to affect the outcome of another's life."

Emrys could've laughed. "No magic? I'd hardly say that this is a challenge for me. I live in Camelot. With Uther's law, your challenge will only make it easier for me to survive another day."

His silver eyes met hers directly. "You were _born_ with _xoia_, Emrys. Your magic is far too powerful for you to contain right now and it's only growing stronger by the day. You don't even realize it yet."

"Oh, believe me," she said quietly, "I know how powerful it is."

Baelfire's face turned to the left, his brow creasing deeply. "Someone is waking you up."

"Silas," Emrys breathed, remembering what she'd been doing before this had happened. "When will I see you again?" excerpt

"Mortals need to sleep every day, don't they?" Baelfire suddenly looked as old as Silas. "Emrys, remember our promise."

All she could do was nod.

And then Baelfire, the forest, and the Great Tree of Avalon were gone, disappearing like broken glass falling away and leaving only darkness behind.

Emrys inhaled a sprig of herbs and opened her eyes; she sat up almost immediately, coughing to rid her lungs of the scent. "What was that?"

"Sage," said Silas as he tucked it into his pocket. "What were you doing on the floor, Emrys? It looks like you were slacking off on your chores."

She thanked Silas for giving her an excuse. "Well, if you know what it looked like, why are you asking me?"

Silas let out another long, exasperated sigh. "Enough of this, Emrys. We have to get to the castle."

"But my chores aren't finished," Emrys protested. "Shouldn't I stay home and do them?"

"You mean so you can run off to the dark woods again?" He held the flower she'd given him in his hand. "I'm a physician, Emrys-a collector of herbs and plants of all kinds. I'm well aware of where each one grows. Now, let's get going."

Emrys, speechless and shocked, followed Silas to the castle doors. "What exactly am I supposed to be helping you with?"

"I'm glad you asked," said Silas with a smile. He handed Emrys the basket of medicine he'd brought and then took out a single vial for him. "I'm afraid I don't have the energy I used to. I can't apply Uther's medication and make the long trek to his children. I need you to give Princess Morgana and Prince Arthur their respective medications. You'll find their names on the vials."

Emrys had no intention of seeing Arthur Pendragon before Baelfire could make her immortal-no need to excite the gods by meeting her destined. "Isn't there anything else I can do?"

"Would you like to switch jobs with me? If so, I must warn you that Uther is very sensitive around his lower back-the troubles of an old battle wound, I'm afraid."

Emrys tightened her grip on the basket. "I'll go deliver these."

"Morgana's chambers are on the third floor, second to last door on your right. I have no idea where Arthur might be at this time, so you'll have to search for him. Be quick, Emrys."

"I will." She wouldn't be in the castle any longer than she had to be. It reeked of stuffy aristocrats-especially now that the castle was taking in visitors for the king's celebration.

The guests passed by the speared heads without so much as a second glance. It sickened Emrys to think that Uther's rule had caused the insensitivity toward death. Although she supposed it was only inevitable when the ruler was nicknamed the King of Blood.

Emrys knew better than to underestimate death. She had feared it all of her life. She'd never be able to ignore it the way the people of Camelot did.

The guards standing outside the door to Morgana's chambers checked her contents and let her into the room. Emrys blinked slowly to adjust to the dim lighting.

"Yes, what do you want?"

Emrys' attention flickered to her left, where a girl who couldn't have been much older than Emrys was sitting at a vanity table. The girl's brilliant red hair fell in long waves down her back. Emrys reached up and untangled some of her brown curls, catching her reflection in the mirror.

"Well," said the girl, her tone harsh and impatient.

Emrys remembered that she had been asked a question. "I've come to deliver a tonic for the princess. Where is Princess Morgana?"

"Never mind that," said the girl. She opened her palm and stood up to receive the vial. "I'll give it to her."

"There'll be no need for that. I'm here," said Morgana as she appeared from behind the purple curtains in the back of the room. "Do forgive me for hiding-I thought you were Vera. She's a sweet girl, but she's not a cook."

"She's horrendous," the girl said, as if that would clear up Emrys' confusion.

"She tries her best," Morgana corrected. "But you don't seem to be Vera at all. Who are you?"

"Emrys...princess." She wasn't sure if that was the correct term, but it sounded formal enough. "Silas sent me with your tonic."

Morgana smiled, making her seem even lovelier. She extended her hand to take the vial Emrys offered, thanking her as she did so.

"So, Emrys," said the girl as her fierce green eyes slid over Emrys. "Why did Silas send _you_ instead of coming himself?"

"Guinevere," Morgana hissed.

Emrys straightened her back, refusing to be intimidated by Guinevere. "Silas has taken me under his roof as an apprentice."

Guinevere smiled as if Emrys had said something funny. "That's an interesting job for a young girl, don't you think?"

"I think it's perfectly acceptable," said Morgana. She glanced at Emrys' basket. "Are those Arthur's vitamins?"

Emrys, assuming they were, said, "Yes, princess."

"Please, Emrys, call me Morgana. There's no need for titles."

"Actually," said Guinevere, "there _is_ a need. That's why we have titles in the first place, isn't it?"

Morgana ignored her. "If you're trying to find Arthur, don't go to his chambers. He'll most likely be found somewhere on the training grounds at this hour."

Emrys gave Morgana something of a curtsey, locking eyes with Guinevere's for a brief moment before leaving the room. She asked one of the guards to point her in the right direction and managed to make her way down without going past Uther's room.

The sounds of swords clashing and laughter came to Emrys as she stepped outside. She'd expected the knights to be paired together, but they were all gathered around in a circle on the other side of the field.

Emrys crossed the field and found an opening in the group that she could squeeze through. Two boys-one obviously a knight-were sword fighting. Though one might have assumed that they were practicing, Emrys thought that it was just a way for the knight to embarrass the other boy.

She took a step backward to avoid the boy as the knight pushed him down to her feet. Closer up, Emrys realized he was dressed in serving clothes. He carried in his hands a wooden sword and shield.

The knight swung his sword around his wrist in figure eights, laughing. "Come on, Reuben," he said as the boy picked himself up. "It's like you're not even trying!" He straightened his helmet.

"My apologies, sire," said Reuben as he hid his lanky body behind the shield. "I'm ready now." His body tensed, and he turned his face to the side to hide it behind the shield.

Emrys managed to see his face before he was pushed to the ground again. His skin was darker than the dirt on the ground, and his twisted curls were the color of brown-ebony. Reuben's wide lips parted slightly when his rich eyes fell on Emrys.

The knight he'd been fighting laughed again. "Honestly, Reuben, you're hardly a worthy opponent. I shall have to find another if you cannot keep up."

"Allow me to accommodate you," said Emrys suddenly. She stepped forward, parting the crowd of knights around her. "Although, I'm almost certain you won't enjoy it much."

A rumble of laughter spread throughout the knights. The knight who'd fought Reuben seemed to laugh the loudest. "I'm sorry," he said as he threw his sword into the ground. "I don't believe we've met."

"I'm Emrys."

"So I haven't met you."

"I try not to make a habit of conversing with jolt heads. I find that it doesn't stimulate me in the least."

A knight to Emrys' immediate left flipped some of his chestnut-colored hair out of his eyes. "Perhaps you've been searching for a stimulant in the wrong place. If I may be of any assistance-"

"Does that line usually work for you? Because if it doesn't-and even if it does-it would benefit you to know that I am not as easily impressed as one of your harlots might be," Emrys warned.

The largest of the knights said, "Such a sharp tongue for such a small wench. You'd be wise to mind it, lest I cut it out for you." He raised his sword for effect.

Emrys glanced up at the auburn haired knight, unaffected by his threat. His towering build was matched with broad shoulders and muscular arms. He was probably the second largest creature she'd seen in her life-the first being Baelfire. "I thought giants weren't allowed here. You're the exception, huh?"

"Easy, Percival," said another knight, whose face was covered, as Percival took a step toward Emrys. "Do not forget that we are still in the presence of a woman."

"How chivalrous," Emrys grinned. "Read the knight's' handbook every night, do you?"

"Have you only come here to mock me and my knights, Emrys," said the knight Reuben had fought.

"I'll admit that I had planned to do more than this today," said Emrys, turning toward him. "And yet, here we are, aren't we?"

"Perhaps things would be different if you could see who you were talking to." He reached up to remove his helmet.

Emrys raised a hand. "I beg you to leave your helmet as it is. I don't know if I can stomach what lays underneath it."

"D-do you know who you're speaking to?" he asked loudly.

"Of course I do." Emrys had known even before the knight had flung his helmet to the ground. She didn't need to see his aura to know whom she was talking to. "You're Arthur Pendragon."

"So you _do_ know who I am," said Arthur, his brows furrowing in confusion.

"Yes."

"And you still choose to speak to me like that?"

"Is it not customary to exchange insults before a fight?" When he didn't respond, Emrys walked over to Percival and-after convincing him to stand still-removed his gauntlet and threw it at Arthur's feet. "I, Emrys, challenge you, Arthur Pendragon, to a duel."


	2. Fate in Motion (Emrys)

Something like a chuckle passed through Arthur's teeth. "You don't honestly expect me to accept this, do you?"

"Why wouldn't you? My challenge was completely legitimate," Emrys declared. "Don't be fooled by my appearance, Arthur-I may be a girl, but I can fight as well as any man." Emrys didn't know if beating all the boys in her village counted, but it was the best she had to offer.

"That doesn't mean that you should," said Reuben suddenly. He turned toward Arthur with a bowed head. "Sire, I beg you to forgive her."

"You know this wench," said Percival as he picked his gauntlet off of the ground.

"N-no," said Reuben quickly.

"But you're asking that I forgive her," Arthur noted.

Emrys placed her hands over her hips, dropping her basket to the ground. "That's a pretty big request for someone you claim not to know."

"I don't affiliate myself with silly, little girls," said Reuben indignantly.

"Silly, little girls?" Emrys roared.

"Well, I'd hardly mistake you as a woman. I'd be surprised if you're any older than eighteen."

"I'm seventeen," said Emrys, the temperature in her cheeks rising as the knights laughed. "But women are invented through means of character; just as a boy becomes a man through his strength of heart. How useful is a woman with only a pretty face, who possesses no means with which to provide her husband with a challenge both intellectual and emotional? It would be better for the man to buy a dog, since it would at least assist him in a hunt."

Arthur laughed and stepped forward. "You argue with my manservant like an old soul mate." The knights joined him in more laughter.

"Or siblings," Emrys whispered. She knew Reuben had heard her when he looked away. Emrys turned back to Arthur and said, "You still haven't given me your answer."

Arthur smiled and shook his head, seemingly regarding her with the same amount of patience given to a young child. "I can't accept your challenge, Emrys."

"Is it because I'm a girl? Because I've already told you-"

"That's part of it," Arthur admitted. "But I don't think you know that this challenge you've issued can only end in death, as written in the Knights Codes."

"Yes, I'm aware of that. A tragic end, really, but if it must come to that…"

"You're determined to do this, aren't you?"

"I'm determined to provide you with a worthy opponent."

Arthur laughed once more. "Alright, then, Emrys," he said after the longest time. "I accept."

"Finally," she said, turning to Percival. "I'll need to borrow your sword."

After much prompting from Arthur, Percival handed it over to her. "Careful," he warned, "you might be too small for it."

It was a magnificent piece of work but Emrys couldn't help but note that it was longer than her forearm and much heavier than she'd anticipated. She refused to ask for another sword. "I'm sure you'll find that I can manage just fine. Now, give us room."

Arthur smiled at her, holding his sword in such a way that the light that reflected off of tip blinded Emrys' eyes. "Think you can handle this, Emrys?"

"You've no idea what I can handle. But you're not afraid of me, are you, Arthur?"

"Not in the least."

"Good." Emrys swung her sword to catch Arthur's as it came down on her. Despite her buckling knees, Emrys managed to summon the strength she needed to push Arthur away.

She'd planned on charging him while he was off-balance, but Arthur was quick to get back on his feet. She charged anyway, deciding that this was better than waiting for him to attack first again.

Arthur twirled around Emrys and poked her arse with the tip of his sword. Smiling as she whipped around to face him, he said, "I thought you promised me a challenge, Emrys."

Emrys lunged at him a second time. "Aren't you a little entertained, my lord?" She jumped when she felt the sharp prod of Arthur's sword again.

"A little," he admitted, holding the sword out toward her a third time to keep her at bay. "I'll admit that this is the most interesting fight I've ever had."

"And I'm just getting started," Emrys huffed. It was at that moment that she realized she was out of breath and Arthur was perfectly fine. Through all of her insults, Emrys had forgotten that Arthur's strength was unparalleled to anything she had to offer.

_Almost_ anything she had to offer.

Emrys threw herself at Arthur to avoid the temptation of using her magic. Too late, she remembered his sword, and Emrys stumbled right into Arthur's arms as she tried to avoid it.

He tightened his grip around her chest, restricting her arms to her side and locking her within his cage of broad shoulders and strong arms. No matter how much she struggled, Emrys couldn't break free of him.

"I must disagree with your earlier statement, Reuben," said Arthur in a loud voice. "As I hold her here, I tell you all truthfully that there may be something yet to define this wench as a woman!"

The knights laughed; Reuben looked away; Emrys' face burned.

_Use magic!_ her insides screamed. It dug into the earth, searching for the power it had to offer. She was beginning to slip out of herself. In moments, she would show him-show them all _exactly_ what she was capable of doing.

Emrys glanced up, catching sight of a pair of silver eyes watching over her, masked behind the clouds. Baelfire's words rang through her mind, mocking her earlier confidence. It was enough to severe Emrys' tie to her magic before she could start to make out the colorful auras of the knights around her.

"I can stop this," Arthur said. His breath was hot in her ear, but it caused a shiver to run down her spine. "I can end your embarrassment right now. I'll call off this fight if you will apologize...and bow to me." His chuckle rumbled deep within his chest.

She wanted to blow him away with air magic. She wanted to reveal her power and dare him to laugh at her again. She wanted him to realize exactly whom he was in the presence of.

The dragon eyes had left. Emrys pulled an image of the severed heads to the front of her mind, quelling her emotions long enough for her to think clearly. She didn't need magic; she had a good head.

She stamped on Arthur's foot, forcing him to fold over her. Before he could straighten up, Emrys pushed up on her legs and crashed her head into Arthur's nose. She saw more than the colors of the auras around her as Arthur dropped her to the ground. Emrys scrambled to her feet, trying to think about her next move.

Arthur rubbed his nose and faced her. She realized that, despite her size, she was not quicker than him and lacked the years of training he had against her. It would only be a matter of time until she landed in her previous situation again.

She glanced up to see Arthur running toward her. On impulse, Emrys raised her sword, aimed for his head, and released it into the air. When he threw himself out of its pathway, she charged and brought him to the ground by his waist. She leaned forward, wrenched his sword from his hands, and propped herself up on one knee for balance. The tip of his sword was pressed into his neck hard enough to bruise.

His breathing was short and strained, and his eyes were wide with apparent shock. She wondered what he thought of her now, with his life in her possession.

If he thought she wouldn't take his life, he was wrong. Emrys mulled over the idea as she stared into Arthur's eyes. If there were any reason for Emrys not to take his life, she'd find it there.

His eyes held nothing. There was no fire within it, no desire to live. She doubted he would struggle against her if she were to press down on the sword. There was nothing great about this spoiled prince whose wide eyes begged for mercy. But he did not want to be saved; he _wanted_ her to take his life. She was vaguely aware of the knights unsheathing their swords behind her.

_Leave him_, her magic ordered her. It growled and paced in its cage, begging her to make a decision. _Finish him_, another voice told her. This one was much darker; Emrys hadn't heard from this voice in a while.

Something held Emrys there above Arthur. With a bone chilling thought, she realized that her magic had once again locked onto the earth's power. Arthur stared back at her as if he could see her mental struggle. He shifted ever so slightly underneath her, as if he was testing her hold on the sword. His hair fell over the grass, mixing in with her fingers.

Her stomach folded over itself eight times; her mind reeled with ancient chants; her heart strained to beat against the crushing force of the earth's magic. The only thing holding her there, keeping her rooted to that earth was this boy.

This boy-this boy who did not desire to live, who knew nothing of the destiny the gods had written for him, whose blue eyes held hers with such an intensity that she thought he could see into her very soul-she would _make_ him great. She could see it. It had been set this way since the moment she had been born. She couldn't escape it, no matter how much she wanted to.

It was her destiny. _And destinies_, her dark voice whispered, _were meant to be followed._

With a gasp, Emrys broke free of her magic's hold and stood up, planting the sword into the grass. She considered offering her hand to help Arthur to his feet but decided against it. She didn't want to touch him again.

Arthur sat up, one hand around his throat. "You cheated!"

"I won," Emrys said with a frown.

"You threw a bloody sword at my head," he roared, rising to his feet. "Were you trying to kill me?"

"If I'd wanted you dead, I would've taken my chance just now." She crossed her arms over her chest, deepening her frown. "You're not very grateful for someone whose life was just spared. My victory should have called for your death."

"This doesn't count as a victory. You did not win; you cheated!"

"I didn't realize you were such a sore loser, Arthur Pendragon."

"I demand a rematch," said Arthur in a low growl.

Emrys swept Arthur underneath her cool gaze and picked up her basket. "No, thank you, but you've nothing to fear, Arthur Pendragon; I won't brag about this. You're right to say that I haven't been completely fair to you."

Arthur smiled. "So you admit you were unfair?"

"Of course. I never should've challenged you before you had a chance to take these," she said as she handed Arthur his vitamins. "I mean, you never would've won anyway, but at least now you have proof that you were impaired."

"I don't need vitamins to beat a _girl_ in a swordfight."

Emrys' face burned with indignity. "Obviously you don't need vitamins to _lose_ to one either." She glanced to her left, locking eyes with Reuben. "You'll see that your prince takes his vitamins after he's done with his fit, won't you?"

"Where are you going," Arthur demanded as Emrys parted the knights.

"It would seem that now _I'm_ the one in need of a worthy opponent. Until next we meet, knights, Reuben, Arthur Pendragon," she called over her shoulder.

Emrys could feel her entire being scream in protest as she walked away from the field. She shouldn't have met him, engaged him, and tempted her fate. Her senses were open to him. Their connection had been established. There would be no escaping her destiny now. Her only hope now was for Baelfire to make her immortal.

As she walked, Emrys became increasingly aware of a pain that was beginning to settle over her stomach. When she reached the castle gate, the pain became so much that she almost doubled over. She did, however, stumble backwards.

Someone reached out and caught her arm, steadying her. "Easy, Emrys."

Emrys knew from the sound of his voice that it was Reuben. She pulled away from him and took a step toward the castle, the pain dulling slightly.

"That was rather unnecessary back there, don't you think?"

"Not when you compare it to you pretending that you don't know me," she shot back. "I'm surprised you're even talking to me now, since you claim that you don't associate with 'silly, little girls'." The words stung even more now.

Reuben ignored her. "I would advise you to choose your actions more carefully in the future, lest you get me into trouble or find it yourself."

"Yes, because we wouldn't want that, would we?"

He was silent for a moment, narrowing his eyes at her. Then, with a sudden movement, he gripped her shoulders and began shaking her violently. "What is wrong with you, Emrys? Why are you in _Camelot_? It's not safe here. Not for you," he hissed.

Her magic-and her sickness-resurfaced to the top, threatening to bubble over. She fixed her eyes on Reuben's, swallowing her urge. "Let go of me," she ordered.

"Is everything alright, Emrys," said Silas as he came across the pair. He stopped when his eyes fell on Reuben.

Reuben released Emrys and turned toward Silas with fierce eyes. "When you said that you would be taking a ward into your household, you neglected to mention that it was my sister."

Now it was Emrys' turn to look at Silas. "You knew he was here and you didn't tell me?"

Silas rubbed his temple and said, "I was waiting for the proper time. I didn't think the two of you would meet-"

"You sent me to Arthur without thinking that I would chance upon my brother, his manservant?"

"I'm an old man, Emrys! Have _some_ pity on me-I'm hardly perfect and I'm very likely to forget things at my age."

"Did you also forget that I warned you to keep her away from Arthur," Reuben asked suddenly.

Emrys turned on Reuben with fierce eyes. "Who gave you permission to decide such things?"

"Mother did, unless you've forgotten."

"Could you blame me? You haven't even sent me as much as a letter in the past _ten _years yet suddenly you think you can dictate over my life?"

"Your life?" He scoffed. "You mean that horrid destiny the gods forced upon you? I'd hardly say _I'm_ the one dictating over your life, wouldn't you?"

"That's enough, you two," said Silas sternly, glancing around at the aristocrats who passed them. "Emrys, I think it's time I took you home before the ceremonies start."

Emrys opened her mouth to protest as Silas prompted her to the gate, but instead she cried out in pain and doubled over.

"Emrys," someone said above her. She couldn't distinguish whose voice it was-maybe both of them had yelled.

A pair of arms pulled Emrys away from the gate, far enough that her pain seemed only minimal. After a few deep breathes, Emrys was able to stand again.

"Emrys, are you alright," said Silas, peering into her eyes. "What happened?"

"I'm fine," she mumbled. "My magic's a little hard to control." She tried not to think about what Baelfire had said.

"It's never been this bad, has it? You've never been in pain before."

"It just started. Ever since-"

"Ever since you made a magical connection with Arthur," Reuben answered. "This is why I wanted to keep her away from him. Don't you remember what the Elders said, Emrys? If you and Arthur share a magical connection, your destiny is set."

"But I haven't used magic all day," cried Emrys, trying not to panic. "And besides, I saw Arthur earlier today and I was perfectly fine."

"_Connection_," Reuben repeated. "Seeing someone isn't the same as physically connecting with them. When you challenged Arthur earlier, your magical life force must've bound you to him."

"My _xoia_," Emrys whispered. She was starting to feel sick again, but this sickness came from the uneasiness that the talk of her destiny aroused in her stomach.

"Emrys, you challenged Arthur," Silas exclaimed. "You could be jailed and executed for that!"

"Not now, Uncle." Emrys glanced at the gate. "What does this mean?"

"It seems to me," said Reuben as he pushed Emrys toward the castle, eyeing her reaction, "that your sickness gets worse as you get closer to the gate-farther from Arthur."

"Your magic is literally forcing you to stay by Arthur's side," Silas concluded.

Reuben nodded. "And until you accept it, fate is going to do all it can to force you together."

Suddenly, a terrified scream split the air. Without hesitation, Emrys followed the sound into the castle, where a crowd had already begun to form in an obscure hallway. She made her way to the front of the crowd, freezing when her eyes fell upon the body.

Even in death, the girl was beautiful. Her blue eyes were glazed over, unfocused but peaceful. Her blonde hair was curled underneath her head like a pillow. There was nothing painful about the way her body was slumped against the floor. Had her eyes been closed, Emrys would've thought the girl was sleeping.

But she wasn't sleeping. The girl's death was confirmed by Silas, who parted the crowd of murmuring aristocrats with a firm order.

"That's Vera," Reuben whispered as he edged Emrys to the back. "She was Morgana's handmaiden."

Emrys glanced up at Morgana, who was on the other side of the crowd. The princess had no tears in her eyes, but the lower half of her jaw was set. Guinevere stood beside her, looking at anything but Vera's body.

Without adding much thought to her actions, Emrys left her brother's side and made her way over to Morgana. "Are you alright, princess?"

"She's fine," Guinevere hissed between her teeth, glaring at Emrys.

Morgana touched Guinevere's arm lightly and nodded at Emrys. "Thank you for your concern, Emrys. It's just a shock, is all."

"I'm so sorry, princess."

A door at the end of the hallway burst open, and Uther Pendragon entered, his cloak billowing behind him. He strode up to Morgana without even glancing at Emrys, who avoided his eyes. "Morgana, are you alright? What happened?"

"I don't know-she was like this when I got here." Emrys caught the slightest crack in Morgana's voice. As Uther moved away from Morgana, Emrys offered her comfort, surprised when the princess took her hand.

"Arthur," said Uther suddenly, his gaze passing just over Emrys' head.

Emrys didn't turn around to confirm Arthur's presence. She feared that her magic would explode within her; her control weakened when Arthur's fingers grazed her arm as he reached forward to touch his sister.

She turned her face away so that Arthur wouldn't notice her. Emrys looked at Reuben, taking deep breaths. Her magic was in her throat, clutching her body with a grip so demanding she thought the sickness had returned. But the sickness had gone, disappearing the moment Arthur had arrived.

Sudden panic flashed over Reuben's face. He motioned toward her eyes, which had begun to burn. Emrys knew that, in just a few short moments, her magic would be released.

Without letting go of Morgana's hand, Emrys grabbed her right arm and dug her nails into her skin. She bit back the sting of the physical pain, relaxing as her magic crept away. No blood had been drawn, but a mark would definitely form later.

She wondered what symbol her eyes had taken, what element her emotions had almost called, what manner of death the King of Blood would've demanded. Perhaps he was still in the mood to spear another head.

"Vera's death is quite unusual, sire," said Silas, pulling Emrys away from her thoughts. "I can't figure out how she died. It's a mystery, sire."

"Not a mystery, Silas, _magic_. There's sorcery in Camelot. It's the one from before," Uther growled. "Arthur, escort our guests to the great hall while I deal with this."

Arthur nodded, every bit the dutiful prince that he was expected to be. Emrys suspected he only played the part well, thinking back to the side of him that she'd seen out on the field.

No wonder she'd found no greatness in him! This Arthur was a fake. The Arthur she'd challenged was nothing short of a prat, but Emrys knew that he'd been real. At least, Prat Arthur was probably closer to being the real Arthur Pendragon than Prince Arthur.

Prince Arthur nodded and led the muttering aristocrats away. As he left, he caught Emrys' eyes. If he recognized her, his face didn't betray it. Arthur continued out of the hall without taking another glance at Emrys.

"Morgana, please return to your chambers," said Uther. "Guinevere will serve as Vera's substitute until I can provide a proper replacement."

"Father, if I may," said Morgana, stepping forward. "I already have someone that I would like to suggest." She pulled Emrys to her side, unaware of Emrys' growing uneasiness. "This is Emrys. With your permission, Father, I'd like Emrys to be my next handmaiden."

Emrys squirmed underneath Uther's stare. The King of Blood studied her intently, his frown deepening with each passing moment. She held her breath and forced herself to hold Uther's gaze.

Finally, Uther shook his head and said, "I appreciate your thoughts, Morgana, but I cannot agree to this. We hardly know this girl."

"Yes, but I trust her to take care of me tonight."

"What else do you have to justify your trust besides your blind faith?"

"Sire," said Silas, "this is the young girl I mentioned taking in. As her guardian, I have been able to observe her, and I can assure you that you need not worry about her character."

Uther returned his gaze to Emrys, hastily saying, "Because I value your counsel, Silas, and because I simply have no time to waste on this matter, I will allow this girl to act as Morgana's handmaiden for the night."

"Thank you, Father," said Morgana smiling.

"Arthur's servant Reuben will show you what I expect of you tonight," he said to Emrys. To Morgana: "I will see you at the ceremonies, my daughter." Though Uther's tone was friendly enough, Emrys could sense the formal dismissal behind his words.

"I apologize for making this decision so impulsively, Emrys," said Morgana as she led Emrys, Guinevere, and Reuben into the next hallway. "Vera was lovely, but she was still one of my father's choosing. I realized as my father was speaking that this was my chance to have a handmaiden that I approved of."

"You approve of this homely wench," said Guinevere, narrowing her eyes at Emrys.

Emrys could feel her magic swelling again. Oh, how it begged to silence Guinevere! _Pretty girl_, said a dark voice. _Pretty girl! Pretty face! Easy to ruin_. She almost let it. Instead, she turned toward Morgana and said, "I am immensely grateful for your trust, princess, but I am surprised to find your trust so easily."

"I'm a little surprised myself," Morgana admitted. "There's something about you that I feel inexplicably drawn to. I can't quite put my finger on it, but I just have a feeling that you're very special, Emrys." Morgana chuckled as she entered her chambers. "I didn't realize how silly that sounded until I spoke it aloud."

"Emrys," said Reuben, standing away from Morgana's chambers.

As Emrys turned to follow her brother, Guinevere said, "I would advise paying close attention to what he says if you would like to make it through tonight." A taunting smirk stretched across her face. "I'm afraid I don't have much hope for you."

"Emrys," Reuben said again, this time to stop her from following Guinevere through the door. "Do not instigate this matter further."

"She's the one who started it!"

"Never mind her, now."

"But she's right, Reuben! I'll never last the night!"

"You will, Emrys," he assured her. "I'll teach you how to survive in this place."


	3. A Night of Destiny (Emrys)

Emrys wrung her hands in the skirts of her dress, taking deep breaths through her nose to calm herself. She smoothed her dress down for the fifth time and released her hair from its restraint so that she could run her fingers through that instead.

Emrys could hear muffled music from the other side of the doors to the great hall. She'd been standing outside those doors for at least an hour-and if Emrys had it her way, she'd stand there all night. If Arthur were any later, she would probably get her wish.

Arthur was Morgana's escort for the evening, but he and Reuben had yet to arrive. Emrys knew from the sickness growing in the pit of her stomach that Arthur was definitely on his way.

"What are you doing, Emrys," said Guinevere as she watched Emrys twirl her hair around her finger. "You're making me anxious."

"I'm fixing my hair."

Guinevere gave Emrys a cruel smile and said, "Oh, don't bother yourself with that. No one will be looking in _your_ direction."

Emrys bit her tongue. With some difficulty, Emrys refrained from responding. She reminded herself that she would no longer be working with Guinevere after tonight.

"Guinevere, please," said Morgana patiently. "Emrys has never served at the castle before. I'm certain you've done nothing to calm any nerves she might have."

The sickness in Emrys' stomach disappeared abruptly. She glanced up to see Reuben rounding the corner at the end of the hall. "Finally," she hissed as he made his way over to her. "Where have you been?"

"Come on," he said, grabbing her arm and pulling her toward the other end of the hallway. "We have to leave."

"Why?"

"There you are, Arthur," said Morgana as Reuben stepped in front of Emrys, blocking her view of the prince. "I was beginning to think you had forgotten me. Did you mean to have me stand here all night?"

Emrys thought she heard a smile in Arthur's voice. "I assure you that wasn't my intention. You could even say that my tardiness is beneficial to you, Morgana. You've missed all the boring parts now."

"I doubt Father will appreciate our absence from his speech."

"He'll make plenty more tonight, I'm sure."

Guinevere frowned and crossed her arms over her chest. "It was very inconsiderate of you to keep us waiting here. Morgana has been beside herself with worry all this time. Do you think your words will help?"

"From what I've heard, my sister's got plenty of help. Father says that I won't have Reuben's full attention, as he is required to be available to instruct your _new_ servant." There was some type of unspoken question shared between their silence.

"Yes, what you say is true," said Morgana. "I expect to return Reuben to you soon."

"I also hear your new servant is to be tested in tonight's ceremonies."

Morgana sighed. "I'd prefer for you to come to me and not my lady-in-waiting the next time you wish to discuss matters like this. Yes, she is to be tested by Father, but I have full faith in my girl. She's quite remarkable, Arthur."

"She must be if you chose her without knowing anything about her. Where is she?"

"Come on," Reuben hissed in Emrys' ear. He grabbed her wrist and moved to pull her away.

Arthur's back stiffened, as if he could feel her presence. He turned suddenly, and, locking eyes with her, cried, "You! Reuben, remain where you are." He threw his shoulders back and lifted his chin as he crossed the distance between them. He carried himself with such authority that Emrys almost thought that he was coming at her as Prince Arthur. The maddened look in his eye told her that she was indeed in the presence of _Prat_ Arthur.

Emrys was suddenly aware of the stillness in the room. Her magic leapt in its cage, begging to be joined with Arthur. She took a deep breath and silenced the urge by crossing her arms over her chest.

For a moment, Emrys forgot all of her wit and took a moment to really admire him. The prince was, actually, quite handsome. His blond hair had been slicked back behind his ears, drawing even more attention to his illustrious eyes, the color of cornflower. His red tunic was embroidered with gold stitching and tied with a massive belt.

"What are you doing here," he asked. "Have you come back to mock me again?"

"Another time, perhaps," Emrys said with a voice that attempted formality, "I understand you're already late enough. I'd hate for you to be later just because you have this silly notion of delayed revenge."

His eyes narrowed and his voice lowered to a growl. "I should have you thrown in jail for attacking me."

"And ruin all the fun? Come now, Arthur. I'd rather you just admit your defeat than lock me up to save face."

"Defeat," said Guinevere with a raised eyebrow. "What is she talking about, Arthur?"

Arthur rubbed the nape of his neck, glancing away from Emrys. Before he could open his mouth, Morgana turned around and said, "Arthur lost a Knight's Challenge to Emrys this afternoon."

Arthur groaned. "I'd prefer for you to come to me and not one of my knights the next time you wish to discuss matters like this. And I did not _lose_ the fight. She threw a sword at my head."

A large smile spread across Morgana's face. "Yes, Gwaine told me that. But I'm afraid you will have to set your animosity aside for the moment. I intend for Emrys to be here for a while, and I won't have you doing anything to change that." Her face darkened with authority. "Does my younger brother understand me?"

Arthur stared down his sister. Once again, another silent conversation passed between them. Though he was more than a few inches taller than her, he seemed to buckle underneath her gaze. Finally, Arthur looked away.

"Fine," he grumbled. Arthur locked eyes with Emrys. "I won't do anything. But that doesn't mean she won't mess up on her own."

Morgana nodded and slipped her arm through Arthur's, pulling him away. "Good. Well, now that that's been settled, I believe that we must be getting to the ceremonies now, Arthur."

Arthur glanced at Reuben. "Reuben, take Emrys to the kitchens and get us some wine." His gaze returned to Emrys. "Good luck-I'm sure you'll need it." He waited for Reuben to open the doors and then disappeared inside.

Emrys caught sight of the feast that awaited them through the crack of the giant doors. Festive music and laughter flooded into the hallway. The aristocrats sat at the far end of the room, talking and eating wildly.

"Stop staring," Reuben hissed into Emrys' ear. "You're here to work, remember?"

Emrys followed Reuben down to the kitchens. It was even noisier than the great hall. Servants shifted in and out of the area so fast that Emrys could hardly tell what was going on. Her nostrils filled with the scent of all of the different types of food around her. She had never smelled food so delicious before.

"Come on," Reuben told her. He led her to a table on the far side of the room. "Pick up a jug, and fill it with wine."

She did as he commanded. Emrys filled the jug to a reasonable amount-she still had to carry it back up the steps to the ceremony. Reuben's back stiffened as he walked back up the steps. Against her better judgment, Emrys said, "Arthur seems beastly."

For a while, she thought he wouldn't answer. Finally, Reuben smiled. "He's a nightmare most days." He glanced at Emrys and said, "All right, all days, really."

"And you've put up with him for ten years," she asked. Emrys shook her head and laughed. She realized suddenly that this was not where she had wanted to go with their conversation. Emrys closed her mouth and followed Reuben through a different staircase that led to a door on the other side of the great hall.

Reuben stopped before the door. "Have you forgotten anything I've told you?"

Emrys shook her head, breathing deeply through her nose.

"How are you doing so far?"

"Fairly well. Morgana's been kind to me."

"Yes, Morgana's much different than Arthur," he said after a while, almost in a whisper.

"She's much kinder, and very beautiful, isn't she? She asked me to pick out her dress tonight," said Emrys proudly, clutching the jug of wine to her chest. "Guinevere tried to tell her to wear this hideous orange dress, but Morgana asked for _my_ opinion instead."

Reuben pushed open the door and turned his head in the direction of the princess. The back of the chair covered most of her dress, but Morgana's body was positioned in a way that some of it could still be seen. Emrys knew that a different angle would really give Morgana's dress justice.

From the front, one would see that Morgana's dress hugged her shoulders. The purple silk desperately clung to her curves, as if the dress itself hated the idea of being parted from her. Curled pieces of silver outlined the basque waistline, drawing even more attention to her defined hips. There was not a male in the room who wasn't stealing looks at Morgana every chance they could.

"She looks beautiful," Reuben finally said.

Emrys stepped into the room after him, her eyes on Arthur, who had suddenly turned to look at her. Uther broke off his conversation to look at Emrys, too. She worried for a moment that the king would hail her over. To her luck, she was called over to the knights' table first.

Emrys tried to remember to keep her eyes lowered as she began to refill some of their goblets. She was aware as she positioned her face behind her hair that she had someone's eyes on her. When Emrys got to the fourth knight, he grabbed her wrist and peered into her face.

Emrys met the knight's green eyes. "Now _you_ look familiar," he said, frowning as he tried to place the memory. He reeked of wine already. "Where have I seen your pretty little face before?"

She resisted the urge to snatch her hand away for fear that she would drop the wine. She glanced up quickly and saw that Uther was watching her-the entire royal family was watching her. Emrys took a deep breath and said, "Forgive me, but I know not to what you are referring to, Sir Knight."

"Ah, yes, where are my manners? I'm Sir Heior, knight of Camelot." He drained his goblet in one long gulp and looked up at Emrys expectantly. "There's a good girl," he said as she poured more wine. Heior took a small sip, pushed some of his dark blond hair to the side of his face, and looked over Emrys with hungry eyes. "Such a pretty little serving girl…"

Emrys looked away, catching another knight's eye. "Don't you remember the story I told to Morgana, Heior?" he said, not taking his eyes off of Emrys. "This is the girl who gave the prince what for during training this afternoon." He smiled and motioned her over.

"Is it safe for me to assume that you are Sir Gwaine?"

"Yes, but you can forget formalities if you'd like, Emrys. I have a feeling we will become _quite_ close soon," he purred. "I had no idea you were a servant here."

"Only recently, _Sir_ Gwaine," said Emrys as she returned to standing position. "Princess Morgana has requested my services only for tonight's ceremonies."

"Hopefully, we can make that position permanent."

"Yes," said Heior, holding up his empty goblet again. "There are so few serving girls here who are actually worth the attention of knights."

Emrys forced herself to smile. "You flatter me, Sir Heior. But, alas, my fate is not my own to determine."

"Hey, wench," said Percival, giving Emrys a cruel smile as she turned to glare at him. "You're wanted."

Emrys looked and saw Reuben motioning to her by the far end of the wall. To her side, Uther was preparing to rise again, probably to give another speech. She realized most of the other servants were gathering by the wall as well. Emrys tried her best to make sure she didn't bump into anyone. She held onto the firm belief that if she followed everything her brother had told her, she would be free. Then all she would have to worry about was her magical connection to Arthur.

Baelfire would know of a way to break it. He knew how to save her from her early death-surely knowing how to break a magical connection would be considered common knowledge for him.

Emrys was jarred from her thoughts as her shoulder caught onto another's. The jug of wine fell from her hands and broke against the floor, spilling its contents everywhere. Emrys stood frozen in horror, staring down at the broken pottery. Uther cleared his throat, and Emrys was suddenly aware of all of the eyes that were on her.

Emrys looked up at the person she'd bumped into. Though his rough face seemed familiar, she couldn't seem to place it within her memories. He pushed past her with a frown and Emrys could've sworn that she'd seen his eyes turn green before she bent down to pick up the shattered pottery pieces.

"My deepest apologies, my lord," Emrys mumbled, trying not to focus on the glaring monarch above her. "I'll have this cleaned immediately."

"Leave it," Uther barked. "I knew you were not fit to serve in this castle. You are dismissed."

"Sire," Silas whispered, rising from the table. "I implore you to overlook the matter. I'm sure it was an accident."

Uther raised a hand to dismiss the thought. "No. I'm sorry, Silas. I gave this girl a chance, but it is obvious that she is not ready." He turned his head back to Emrys. "Leave."

She had been dismissed. She would not serve Morgana or be in the presence of Arthur or her brother anymore. She was free. She had been freed from her destiny. Relief washed over her, and a warm feeling spread through her body.

At the same time, a small part of her felt as if it was tumbling off the side of the earth. She was disappointed? But this was what she had wanted. She had wanted release, and she had gotten it. She didn't need immortality; she didn't need to stay in Camelot; she could _leave_ and be _free_.

And yet, even as she thought this, Emrys knew that she didn't believe it. She looked up and realized that Uther had moved on and begun his speech. Arthur was facing forward, but Emrys thought she saw the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his ears. Morgana had her hands clenched at her sides. Guinevere, who was sitting by Arthur, was the only one who was looking directly at Emrys, and it was with a smile so haughty and malicious that Emrys could actually feel the distance between them.

Reuben placed his hands over her own, drawing her attention away from Guinevere. "Emrys," he whispered. "Come on. Someone else will get this. Let's get you back to your chambers." He pulled his sister to her feet and led her out the servants' door in the back of the room.

Emrys waited until she could no longer hear Uther before she said anything. She stopped just outside of the great hall and said, "Reuben, I..."

"That was quite brilliant, Emrys," said Reuben suddenly, turning on her with a smile. "I should've thought to mention Uther's temper earlier, but I suppose your magic-"

"I didn't use any magic. I can't."

His smile fell. "What do you mean you can't? What happened?" He turned her palms over, checking for scrapes. "Are you hurt somewhere?"

"No, no," she said, taking her hands away from him. "I...I made a deal with a dragon."

"You found a _dragon_?"

"Well, yes and no. I didn't really _find_ him; he came to me in a vision. But I promised not to use my magic for the rest of today. What happened in there was just an accident." She was still trying to make sense of the man she had seen inside. "But, Reuben, there was a man back there…"

"Oh, I'm sure," said Reuben suddenly, grabbing her wrist and pulling her away from the great hall again. "I saw the way that Heior grabbed you. You'll want to stay away from him. He does not have the best reputation among the knights."

"No, not Heior. This man's eyes-I saw them change colors."

Reuben stopped in his tracks. "Are you absolutely certain, Emrys?"

"Yes. The man had magic. I'm sure of it."

Reuben shook his head and paced around the hallway. "That doesn't make any sense, Emrys. No one in their right mind would want to be so close to Uther when they have magic."

"Noren," Emrys breathed, remembering the man from the courtyard. She gasped suddenly as pain clutched at her stomach. No matter how much she tried, she couldn't fight off the premonition that was coming. A rush of emotions and thoughts that weren't hers flowed through her. _Fear. Anger. Confusion._

_Noren, his eyes now a chilling blue, turned to Arthur, who crawled across the floor in an attempt to escape. The young prince looked up to his frozen father, realizing that help would not come and death was imminent. He fell to the sorcerer's feet after receiving a well-placed kick to his chest._

_Noren held a dagger by its tip and aimed it at Arthur, who had resorted to crawling again. His eyes widened in shock as the weapon plunged into his chest, his face forever frozen in that state of confusion._

"Emrys," said Reuben, holding her up by her shoulders, forcing her back into reality. "What's wrong?"

"Arthur," she managed to get out. Without thinking, Emrys spun around and ran back down the hallway and up the stairs. She became acutely aware of the silence that led into the great hall when she found the servants' entrance blocked. Emrys pounded on the wooden door, screaming, "Arthur!"

At first, all she heard was silence. But then the door swung back, revealing the ongoing celebrations. She stepped inside, searching for Arthur by the royal table. He wasn't there; he was standing in the middle of the hall. Relief washed over her. Arthur was safe.

And he was staring at her. Once again, everyone's eyes were on Emrys.

"You insolent, wretched girl," scream Uther as he stood up. For a moment, Emrys feared that he would have her head even without knowing her secret. "What grants you with the audacity to return?"

"Forgive the intrusion, my lord," said Emrys, managing a quick, apologetic bow before continuing, "but this is a matter of the utmost importance. There is a-"

"I will not stand for this manner of disrespect. Guards, seize her."

At once, two men slipped their arms through both of Emrys' and began pulling her away. She struggled against them, but to no avail did she break free. "Sire, _please_, I beg you listen to me. There is a sorcerer here in the castle as we speak!" Out of all the people the guards dragged her past-Arthur, Gwaine, Heior, Percival, the aristocrats-Emrys finally caught sight of the man she'd been looking for, standing just behind the royal table. "There," she cried, using the small amount of freedom she had to point into the crowd. "He's there! The sorcerer is there!"

The guards froze in their places. All faces turned to Noren, whose gaze was locked on Emrys. His sea green eyes narrowed as though to caution her. His brows knit together and his lips turned into a frown. Then, before Uther could even begin to give the order for his arrest, Noren's lips curled into a snarl and, with a flash of movement that caused the guards to drop Emrys' arms, he slid his arm around Morgana's neck.

The knights shouted in warning, drawing their swords. Many aristocrats fled the room. Noren faced the hall and lifted Morgana until she had to pedal backwards to stay upright. A flash of silver sent chills down Emrys' spine. Noren had kept a small dagger holstered to his thigh. It threatened to end Morgana's life with one wrong move.

Arthur stormed forward, armed with his personal sword. "Unhand her, sorcerer!"

"Your majesty," said one of the knights, "give the order!"

Uther looked out from under drawn eyebrows. "Release the princess, Noren. You have no quarrel with her."

"No," Noren growled in a voice so low that, if not for the complete silence of the room, would go unheard in the large hall. "She's important-insurance that I will be able to exact my revenge without fail. You would never risk Princess Morgana's life." It was not a question. Noren proved it by dragging Morgana away from the table.

Uther refused to remove his eyes from the sorcerer. "I do not make deals with sorcerers. You _will_ release your hold on my daughter, and you _will_ face the justice you deserve for your crimes of sorcery."

"Yes, yes," Noren said impatiently. "But, first, my king, I want to know what this one knows." He turned and used the dagger to point to Emrys.

Emrys kept her eyes steady on the dagger's point. "I'm no one," she said quickly, still forming a plan in her mind. "I'm just a serving girl-"

"You might know more than you realize, girl. A lot of energy went into the spell to disguise me, yet you recognized me with ease. What is it you know?"

"I know that you should've released the princess when you had the chance." In one quick movement, Emrys turned to the guard on her right, unsheathed his dagger, and flung the weapon at Noren. Noren released the princess, crying out in pain and clutching at his bleeding left eye. She rushed forward and pulled the princess back behind the safety of the table.

"Seize him," Uther cried, though the knights had already begun to move toward the sorcerer.

All at once, Emrys felt connected to her _xoia_. She realized, too late, that Noren was preparing his magic. The temptation to use her own was so great that it left Emrys gasping for breath.

Noren's visible eye turned bright blue. "_Cysgu ddefod o ffordd ceed_." The knights crowding him stopped what they were doing. Following the movements of Noren's right hand, the knights formed a protective circle around their master, facing the remaining crowd.

The sorcerer extended his hand toward the king and whispered, "_Coffi oer_." Emrys didn't have to see his damaged eye to know that it was turning green. Ice shot out from his hand and encased the king, freezing the monarch in his place. Silas rushed over to the king to try and reverse the effect.

Arthur, with a vicious yell, charged forward with his sword drawn high. He was met with a brutal blow to his chest given by one of the knights. The young prince fell to the floor, his sword sliding away from him.

"Ah, yes," said Noren quietly, turning to face him. "Prince Arthur Pendragon. I think I know exactly what to do with you." With a flick of his wrist, the knights broke their formation. Most of them stood in front of the royal table, blocking the view of the prince from everyone but Uther. The rest formed a smaller circle around Arthur and Noren, their swords drawn.

"You see, Uther," said Noren, striding up to the frozen king, "now you will understand how it feels to be subjected to the abuse of power. Though your son's life could never amount to the value of the lives you have stolen, it will be sufficient enough to get my point across." He looked back at Arthur, who was on his feet again.

The knights in the circle, like puppets on strings, moved clumsily around the prince. Arthur did his best to avoid hurting them-he tried calling their names to bring them back to their senses. Emrys realized just how much the prince had been holding back on her in their match. He managed to disarm a few before Heior struck him on the back.

A hand on her arm made her jump, but she relaxed when she recognized the touch as her brother's. "Reuben," she whispered.

"Come, Emrys," he whispered back, pulling her away from Gwaine and Percival, their puppet guards. "I must get you and the princess to safety."

"No," she said firmly, stepping away from him. She tried not to wince at the sound of Arthur taking another blow. "Take Morgana and Guinevere if you must. I have to do something. Arthur will die if I don't."

Reuben held her gaze for a moment before nodding. "Don't do anything reckless," he warned her. He turned to Morgana and said, "Princess, I must get you to safety. Please follow me." He extended his hand to Guinevere, who hurried through the servants' exit and down the hall.

Emrys glanced at Morgana, whose eyes betrayed her confliction. "I'll bring your brother back," she promised. "Please get to somewhere safe." Another blow went to Arthur. She turned away from the exit as her brother and Morgana disappeared into the darkness below and faced Gwaine and Percival.

Emrys took a deep breath and swallowed her magic back. She didn't know how she was going to save the prince without it, but she knew that she had to at the very least try. Though Gwaine and Percival were still under the control of Noren, it was obvious that they were not the focus of the sorcerer's attention. Emrys slipped between them and glanced around the room, looking for something to aid her.

Directly above Noren was a chandelier. If she could make it to the rope, she could break Noren's concentration and break the spells he had used. She started to make her way past the other knights when she was stopped by Arthur's cry.

Noren turned to Arthur, who crawled across the floor in an attempt to escape. The young prince looked up to his frozen father, realizing that help would not come and death was imminent. He fell to the sorcerer's feet after receiving a well-placed kick to his chest.

Noren held his dagger by its tip and aimed it at Arthur, who had resorted to crawling again. Emrys raced the weapon to its target, the folds of her dress billowing around her like a protective shield in front of Arthur. Pain erupted in her left thigh as the dagger met a new target and Emrys fell to her knees.

Noren bent down and seized Emrys by her neck. He brought her face up to his, peering into her eyes. When she kicked her good leg at him, he hardly flinched against the pain. "What secrets do you possess, girl?"

"Get away from her," Arthur commanded with a guttural yell. He found the strength to sit up on his knees.

Noren ignored him. "Your secrets will be mine soon. _Mae mam y muses, cofroddian! I ddenu fi!_"

Emrys could feel his magic seeping into her. She kicked again and clawed at the hand on her neck, but Noren did not release her. She could see the chandelier's rope on the wall behind him, but she would never get to it in this position. Images flashed in her mind. Noren was searching for the truth of her being.

She searched for her magic, but it was busy healing her wound. All of her energy had been directed to relieving the physical pain that the dagger was inflicting. Her magic was not available to her, no matter how much she called it.

_Not your magic_, a little voice said to her. _Your_ xoia. _The connection. The prince. The Once and Future King._

Emrys didn't question it. She could feel Arthur's hand on the skirts of her dress as he tried to pull her away from Noren, could sense the energy in his body. With a sigh, she allowed herself the relief of connecting to the earth's magic, and felt her _xoia_ merge with Arthur.

There was just enough energy between the two of them for Emrys to use. She knew no spells, but Emrys had never needed spells. Her eyes burned and she knew that they were turning white, the color of the winter moon. She knew that Noren had stopped the invasion of her mind-he knew _exactly_ what she was now. Still, she focused on the chandelier's rope, willing the strands to break.

With a _snap!_ the rope snapped in two, and the chandelier fell. Noren dropped Emrys to the ground in shock, and Emrys braced herself against the pain she knew was sure to come.

It never came. At least, not for Emrys, it didn't.

Strong arms wrapped themselves around her body. Emrys didn't have time to think about the events that were happening as Arthur rolled his body over hers and out of harm's way. The two collapsed in a heap on the floor, mere inches away from Noren, whose head had been crushed by the weight of the chandelier.

Silence fell across the room as the spells lifted. The knights flexed their muscles, relieved to see that they indeed were in control. The ice on the king began to melt. Blood pounded against Emrys' eardrums as the realization of what she had done settled.

Arthur let out a small groan as he pushed himself up into a seated position. His hand traveled from his jaw to his neck, gingerly massaging the areas. He glanced back at the fallen sorcerer and then at the girl in front of him.

"Arthur," Uther breathed as he crossed the distance between them. He offered a hand to his son and helped him to his feet. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, father, I'm fine," Arthur insisted. He had just barely begun to dust off his clothes when his sister threw her arms around him.

"I'm so glad you're safe," Morgana whispered into his chest. She released him and looked down at Emrys. "You protected my brother, just like you said you would."

"She did more than that," said Uther, who was looking at Emrys with a new light in his eyes. He knelt down on his knees until he was eye level with her. "You saved the lives of both of my children."

"Well, I-" said Emrys.

"I have seriously misjudged you, Emrys. You have proved to be more competent than I first thought you were, and you shall be rewarded for what you have done," he promised. "You will be honored with a permanent position in the Royal Household. You shall remain a handmaiden to Princess Morgana."

Shock rendered Emrys speechless. Somewhere, she heard the knights applaud for her. She was brought out of shock by the pain in her leg as Morgana tried to help her to her feet. The folds of her dress were flung back to reveal Noren's dagger protruding from her left thigh.

"Emrys," Morgana cried. "You're injured."

Silas hurried over to Emrys and inspected her leg. "Luckily, it's just a flesh wound. Emrys will recover quickly. I will need help getting her to my chambers, though."

Arthur, noticing the way that Morgana was glaring at him, said, "Yes, of course." He nodded to his father and motioned toward Reuben. "I will leave you to attend to these affairs, Father. I think I have had enough excitement for one night." Arthur scooped Emrys up in his arms, ignoring the girl's protests. "I will retire immediately after I have taken Morgana's new handmaiden to Silas' chambers." He nodded toward the door for Reuben to open and followed Silas out of the great hall.

Emrys gave in to her desires. With every breath she took, she allowed her connection with the earth's magic to grow deeper and deeper. It was too late for her to do anything else. She had already broken her promise to Baelfire.

_But you had to break it,_ the little voice told her. _Arthur would've died._

She knew that he was trying to carry her in a position that put as little strain on her leg as possible, but if his hand came any closer to her breast, she would regret saving his life. She looked up at the dark sky as they left the castle gates, staring at the pair of silver eyes that watched her. She had no idea how long they had been there, but she doubted they had just shown up.

Emrys had the strangest sense that Baelfire had been watching her this whole time. The longer she looked at those narrowed silver eyes, the more she could picture a smirk on his beautiful face.

_He knew you would fail_, both voices told her.

"You're rather quiet," said Arthur as Emrys turned her head away from the sky. "I don't think I've heard you _not_ speak since I met you."

"I think you should count your blessings while you can, my lord," she told him. "But if you should like me to speak again, I suppose I could find a topic to humor you with."

"Emrys," Silas hissed, glaring at her. "Forgive her, sire. I fear she may be delusional from pain." He waited for Reuben to open the door to their chambers before going inside. "If you would, please, Arthur, set Emrys down on that bench there."

Arthur did as he was told. "Will there be anything else, Silas, or may I retire?"

"I think that will be all, sire, unless you would like to help me remove the dagger from her leg." Silas knelt in front of Emrys and started to lift the skirts of her dress.

"No," said Emrys quickly, swatting Silas' hands away. "You may retire, Arthur Pendragon. I should think that I will survive this without your help."

"Let us hope, for Morgana's sake, that you do."

"If I don't survive, it will certainly be beneficial you, for I will only end up finding my way back to your training grounds to teach you another lesson."

"Emrys, how many times must I scold you for the same mistake?" said Silas as he pulled her leg up to inspect it. "You cannot address him like that."

"It's quite all right, Silas," said Arthur. He peered into Emrys' face. "You're not like other people, Emrys. It's strange. I can't quite put my finger on what's different about you and I can't explain it yet, but I will." He nodded at Silas and turned toward the door. "Come along, Reuben."

"Actually, sire," said Reuben, "I was hoping that I might be allowed to stay a while longer before I retire myself."

Arthur looked back at Reuben and then down at Emrys. "Oh," he said slowly, a smile creeping onto his face. Understanding lit up his eyes.

"What?" said Emrys, looking between the two boys.

"I-It isn't like that," said Reuben quickly. He stepped away from his sister, avoiding eye contact with her. For a moment, Emrys thought that he would leave with Arthur after all.

"You don't have to explain yourself to me, Reuben. Had you been honest with me, I would've let _you_ carry her. See to it that you're at my chambers by dawn. I'll have some chores for you to do before we leave."

"Arthur," said Emrys suddenly. "I will admit that I do speak my mind much more often than I probably should, and that I don't always say the things that I'm supposed to. But, in light of the events that have taken place tonight, I suppose that I should say 'thank you' for saving my life."

The room went silent as everyone turned to look at Arthur. As he was leaving, he smiled at her and said, "Well, you saved mine first."

"He's right, Emrys," said Silas as he sat in front of her. "I saw what you did. You saved three lives tonight."

"Using _magic_," Reuben spat out, crossing his arms over his chest. "I'd hoped that you were smarter than this, Emrys. If anyone had seen what you had done-"

"No one saw it," Emrys protested, turning her fierce eyes on her brother.

"-your head would've been on the next spear. Or, God forbid, Uther would've had you burned at the stake. Is that what you want, Emrys?"

She laughed. Hearing the cruel sound come from her mouth scared her, but she was too angry to care. "It wouldn't matter if it was. When have I _ever_ been able to do what _I_ wanted? For as long as I can remember, my life has been controlled by someone-the gods, the Elders, our mother, you! I didn't come here to follow a destiny I don't want."

"You shouldn't have come here at _all_, Emrys.

Emrys screamed suddenly as Silas drew the dagger from her thigh. She felt her magic rush back to her, but she paid no mind to it, directing her full attention to her brother. But before she could open her mouth, Silas said, "That is enough! Bickering will not change tonight's events. We must focus on what we are going to do."

"Emrys will be going back home to Carmarthen," said Reuben authoritatively. "This whole thing could've been avoided if she hadn't been here; and we're going to avoid any other further incidents by sending her back home."

Emrys turned back at her brother with a glare. "I _have_ to stay here, Reuben. It's too late for you to make me go back now," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I had one shot to change my fate, and I ended up stumbling right into it."

"Emrys," said Silas, placing his hand on top of hers.

She clutched her hand to her chest and looked down, trying not to give in to her emotions of hurt, fear, anger, and betrayal. "Don't," she told Silas. "Please. The last thing I want is your pity."

Without knowing how they had gotten past her defenses, Emrys suddenly felt tears sliding down her cheeks. The sobs came in broken gasps, until she was shaking all over. She cried for the fear she had felt in the castle; she cried for the lives that had almost been lost; she cried for the life she had assisted in taking.

She felt Reuben's strong arms wrap themselves around her shoulders and melted into his chest. Tranquility overtook her as he ran his fingers through her hair, removing it from its holder. Her sobs became soft sniffles.

"I thought I was strong enough to resist my powers, but he was right-they were too strong. "

"'He'," said Silas.

"She found a dragon," Reuben explained quickly.

Silas stumbled onto the stool in front of her. "Emrys," he whispered. "You found the Great Dragon? And he wasn't able to help?"

Emrys' hands clenched into fists where the knife had been. She didn't have to look to know that the wound was completely gone. Her magic had removed any trace of it. "He said he would help me if I didn't use my magic to alter anyone's life."

"But Emrys, surely you could plead to him once more. You saved the lives of Morgana and Arthur with magic."

She shook her head. "It wouldn't make a difference. It's clear that he has no intention of helping me escape my destiny." It was even clearer to Emrys that she did not know everything there was to know about her destiny with Arthur.

What did she have to do with the Once and Future King?


	4. The Royal Guard (Arthur)

"I can't understand it, Reuben," said Arthur, without turning away from his bedroom window. He kept his eyes fixed on the girl below, who had been so focused on getting to the castle that she'd almost allowed herself to be trampled by a horse and cart. She raised her hands in what Arthur assumed was an apology before racing through the castle gate.

Reuben set down Arthur's breakfast and moved to the window beside his master. "Can't understand what, sire?"

"That girl…"

"Emrys?"

Arthur nodded and turned around as Emrys disappeared into the castle. "I can't stop thinking about it."

"Thinking, sire?"

"I have trained dozens of knights, defeated the tallest of enemies, conquered the largest of armies, and yet"-he stopped to swirl the contents in his goblet-"_I_ was beaten in _combat_ by a _girl_."

Arthur frowned as Reuben tried to hide a smile. "It's not funny, Reuben. I'm sure the knights are laughing as well."

"I'm sure they aren't, sire."

"Why wouldn't they? I'm supposed to be leading them. Do you know what that means, Reuben? They should be inspired by me to fight for me, to defend Camelot."

"Who says they aren't inspired? We don't even know if they are laughing."

Arthur took a large bite out of his sausage. "They're laughing," he said acidly. "_You_ laughed. And if _you_ do not fear me enough not to laugh, they won't."

"I apologize for laughing, sire. I did not mean any harm by it. I'm sure the knights aren't laughing, though. They respect you too much to do that."

Arthur shook his head, saying, "They must _fear_ me too much to do that. Respect is a familiarity that I cannot afford. If I want to rule this kingdom as my father does one day, I must be feared just as he is feared. I cannot allow my position to be undermined by some girl."

"It's really not that serious, sire. I'm sure this entire situation will be seen as a testament to your good-heartedness."

"Oh? Go on, then." He finished the contents in his goblet.

"Nobody could expect you to grant her request. But you saw that she obviously had something to prove and humored her anyway. And as if that wasn't already enough, you went easy on her so that she would win. The law calls for the death of anyone who should lay a harmful hand on a member of the royal family, but despite the fact that she threw a sword at you, you did not exact such a punishment."

"You're right," cried Arthur suddenly, smiling. "It's as you say, Reuben! I should've called for her head, or at least her arrest, but I did not do such a thing. How could I when she obviously felt as if she had something to prove to me?"

"Prove to you, sire?"

"It all makes sense now-why she challenged me, why she saved my life, why she makes such an effort to show her contempt for me. The poor girl obviously has feelings for me."

Reuben almost dropped the goblet to the floor. "Feelings for you?"

"That poor girl," said Arthur, smiling and shaking his head. "I understand why she would feel this way, of course. Who wouldn't? I'll have to let Emrys know, of course, that her fantasy can never come to be. As a serving girl, she could never hope that something might actually happen between us." Arthur stood up and began to walk to his door.

Reuben hurried to block his master. "Forgive me, sire, but is there really a need to discuss this with her? I don't think you are considering the girl's feelings."

Arthur narrowed his eyes at his manservant. "You seem to have quite an interest in this girl, Reuben."

"I can assure you that I am only concerned for your best interests. I don't see how it would benefit you to acknowledge her in any way."

Arthur took a step back from the door, smiling suddenly. "I see your point, Reuben, but I must disagree with you."

"Sire?"

"Everything is absolutely perfect."

Arthur was beginning to think that everything was a little less than perfect, especially when the other knights began to shush themselves as he walked over to them. "What's so funny?"

Gwaine smiled. "It wasn't really that funny, sire."

"Oh, nonsense, Gwaine." He stuck his sword into the ground and looked around at the knights. "I'll determine how funny it was."

"Sire," said Reuben warily.

Arthur ignored him with a wave of his hand. "Well, don't leave me out of the joke. Come on, Gwaine, you know I love a good laugh."

Some of the knights focused on their swords; others looked at the sky; no one answered Arthur. Arthur shrugged and pulled his sword out of the ground. "Well, then, if no one is going to tell me a joke, I'm going to assume this means you're all ready to train. _Some_ of you," he said, glancing at Gwaine, "need it more than others."

"Yes," Gwaine chuckled. "Some of us _definitely _need it more than others."

Arthur spun on his heels. "What was that, Gwaine?"

"Nothing, nothing, sire," said Gwaine, still laughing. "Will our wench be joining us as well?"

"Our wench?"

Gwaine nodded, saying, "Emrys."

Arthur's back stiffened.

"Gwaine," said Lancelot in a hushed tone.

"No, Lancelot, it's good that we can talk about this so soon. I'm sure many of you are not sure what to think about yesterday's events. Some of you have decided to treat this as a joke. I think you're just trying to find a way to relieve tension after yesterday's sorcery attack.

"Regardless, I think I need to explain the meaning behind what happened during yesterday's training session. It seems that my simple intentions of behaving as a good sport have been perverted by the less than mature minds of the group. Let me lay any rumors to rest by saying that, no matter what it seemed like, I did not lose to Emrys. I was afraid I would hurt her and saw no other way to get out of it then to play along and let her think she won."

"I see," said Gwaine. "And will you show the same tactics on the enemies we face in the future, or is Emrys the only one who will receive this kind of treatment?"

"Obviously, Emrys understood my kindness, as she did repay her debt yesterday."

"Well, if _that_ is the case, I think I should see how she chooses to repay me if _I_ let her win." Many of the knights hooted and hollered with laughter.

Arthur's eyes narrowed and anger erupted in his chest. "I would advise you, _Sir_ Gwaine, to watch how you speak of Emrys. She is now Morgana's handmaiden, and a respected member of the castle. I will not tolerate any form of harassment or disrespect toward her."

"Wow," said Emrys as she made her way to the knights' circle. "That was quite a lovely speech on my behalf."

Arthur spun around, ignoring the stifled laughter of the knights as he faced the small serving girl. "Emrys?"

"I thought you said she wouldn't be joining us, Arthur," said Gwaine with another laugh.

"You spoke of me earlier?" she asked with a raised eyebrow. "I didn't know you were so fond of me, Arthur Pendragon."

Arthur scoffed. "Don't be ridiculous. It is my duty as a noble knight of Camelot to defend the honor of women when _less_ than noble knights tarnish it. However, Emrys," he said, turning back to face her with a mischievous smile, "I had no idea that you were so keen to die for me."

"What makes you think I would risk my life for a prat like you?" She ignored the glare that Reuben was directing her way.

"Say what you like, Emrys, but the fact is you took a dagger for me."

"That wasn't risking my life," she insisted. "I had hoped that you would've learned how to dodge such attacks from yesterday's little...training session. I suppose I shouldn't have expected much from you. You do seem to be rather dense."

"And you seem to be rather brash, don't you, Emrys?"

"On the contrary, sire," said Reuben suddenly, turning to glare at Emrys again. "Only when she's bored. I'm sure you'll find her to be an entirely different person otherwise."

"Hmm," Arthur mused. "If my memory serves me correctly, this is the third time you have spoken on Emrys' behalf, Reuben."

Reuben bent at the waist. "I promise not to make a habit of it."

Arthur waved away his apology with his hand. "But what are you doing here, Emrys? This seems a rather long way from my sister's chambers."

Emrys held up a basket of cloth and said, "Guinevere would like me to launder some of Princess Morgana's clothing, but she neglected to mention where I am to do that. I came here to find Reuben."

"Yes," said Reuben, stepping forward quickly. "It's right over-"

"No need," Arthur stammered, blocking the path of his manservant. "I will take you myself, Emrys. Reuben, you stay and see to it that our usual party is prepared to leave when I return. As for the rest of you," he said, addressing the other knights, "you may continue to train."

"Sire, are you sure? You never run errands."

"This is hardly an errand, Reuben. Besides, I have need to see my sister anyway." He grabbed Emrys' basket and hurried away before anyone else could ask him any more questions.

When they had completely left the field, and he was sure that Emrys was following by herself, he shoved the load back into Emrys' hands. He slowed his pace and let out a sigh.

"Did you want to be alone with me so badly?" Emrys asked as she shifted the basket in her arms.

"You assume the strangest things, Emrys. I needed an excuse to leave."

"Is something wrong?"

"It's a matter that only involves knights. Besides, you wouldn't understand even if I explained it to you."

Emrys was silent for a moment before she said, "It would seem that I am not the only one who assumes strange things. You often seem to make the terrible mistake of judging someone's ability based on their appearance. As a current knight and future king, I would advise you to be wary of that."

"If I recall correctly, my father made you handmaiden, not consul. I do not need your help, Emrys."

The wind kicked up suddenly, sending a chill down his spine, and the door that they had entered through slammed shut. Emrys set her eyes on him with a look so fierce he found himself wanting to take a step back. "On the contrary, Arthur Pendragon. _You_ need my help more than you know; it is _I_ who does not need you." She turned around and found the nearest staircase to climb.

Arthur hurried after her. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Exactly what you think it does."

He could see that he wasn't going to get a straight answer from her on the matter. "Where do you even think you're going? Back to Morgana's chambers?" Still she did not answer him. "You're going the wrong way, then. The Solar section of the castle is in the opposite direction."

"How do you know I'm not just trying to find it on my own?"

"That's exactly what I fear you're doing. You'll get lost that way." She was quite fast for such a small girl! In a quick burst of energy, Arthur caught up to Emrys and kept in step with her, despite her attempts to lose him. "I don't know if this thought had ever occurred to you, but I grew up in this castle, you know."

"Your point being?"

"I can show you the quickest way to get to the laundry room and back to Morgana if you'll only let me."

"I already told you I am not in need of your assistance, especially if you are only going to be rude to me. I understand if you are upset, but there is no need for you to act so childish and take it out on me."

There it was again. He'd felt it before, that power that this simple serving girl exuded, when she had held the sword over his head. It was not the same type of feeling he had when he was in the presence of his father. That was a brutal force, a violent declaration, an involuntary submission. If he had fought Uther yesterday, Arthur would've continued to struggle until his life had been taken. He would not have allowed that kind of power to decide his fate.

Emrys' power was not that of the nobility, which Arthur felt always desired to prove itself and justify its reign. He thought that, even if he or other nobles were to try, they would never obtain this kind of force. Her power was absolute. It demanded to be felt simply because it was present, and somewhere along the mix, Arthur felt obligated to give her power his respect as well.

Arthur stopped walking. He simply didn't understand it, this gentle wind, this compliant surrender, this silent strength. It seemed to be a part of her, something she carried wherever she went. He felt that, at any moment, Emrys could become terribly frightening with power. Arthur didn't know if Emrys was aware of this power, but he was determined to discover what it was and how to use it.

Arthur knew that this was the power that would either make him king or drive him to madness.

He realized then that she was staring at him with her large, honey-golden eyes, waiting for some kind of answer. He wanted to apologize, but instead he crossed his arms and said, "You're right. Let's both agree to be more civil towards each other.

Her jaw tightened ever so slightly before she opened her mouth to say, "If you think you can manage, then please show me the way, _sire_."

"Arthur," Morgana exclaimed as her brother entered her chambers behind her handmaiden. "Whatever are you doing here? I hope you haven't been bothering Emrys."

It was obvious that whatever power Emrys possessed had already worked its way over Morgana. His sister was naturally caring, but she had never been so fiercely protective over a servant before. "Relax, dearest sister. You'll be happy to know that I have promised to be civil toward your handmaiden while she's employed here."

Emrys shoved the basket into Guinevere's arms, a subtle glare hidden under her lashes. She bowed at the waist and said, "Forgive my tardiness, princess. I realized only after I left that I was unaware of where I should go next. Luckily, the prince was willing to offer his help with my chores."

Arthur couldn't help looking at Emrys in shock. The fiery girl he'd just run around the castle with had been tamed and hidden away in the presence of Morgana. The serving girl standing in front of him was definitely a different version of Emrys he hadn't yet seen. He couldn't determine if this was the effect of Morgana being her superior, or if this was Emrys' way of exuding her power over Morgana.

Morgana raised an eyebrow and turned toward Arthur. "Really? You truly are amazing, Emrys. However did you manage that?"

Guinevere frowned, saying, "Why do you assume that this is the work of Emrys? Is Arthur not capable of doing a good deed by his own prompting?"

"If he had ever done such a thing before, I would be willing to believe that. Whatever the cause, though, I should thank you, Arthur, for your service to Emrys."

"In the future, though, Emrys," said Guinevere as she set the basket down, "you are to seek out help from _Reuben_ and not distract Arthur from his duties."

There was a flash of discord that rippled through Emrys' face before it disappeared. Again, Arthur saw her power settle over her. "I went to the grounds looking for Reuben. It was the prince who decided that Reuben had other matters to attend to."

"Like what, Arthur," said Guinevere, turning to the prince with her hands on her hips.

Arthur suddenly felt that between these two girls was not a place that he wanted to be. He cleared his throat and said, "Reuben is helping my men prepare for a hunt."

Morgana groaned. "Seriously, Arthur? You were just attacked _yesterday_, and you're going back outside the castle already?"

"I was attacked _inside_ the castle," he reminded her. "And I can't be stopped from going on a hunt."

"Arthur, I implore you to reconsider. It's dangerous in those woods, and I'm not sure the knights will be able to protect you. They act more as your friends than your guards." She paused for a moment and then added, "And after yesterday's events, I'm beginning to question the competence of your knights."

"Excuse me?"

"Why were they not able to see through Noren's disguise?"

"It was a disguise, Morgana. _No one_ saw through that."

"Emrys did. Gwaine said that out of all the knights, Lancelot is the only one who has truly come close to beating you in a fight."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Emrys," said Morgana, addressing her without turning around. "How much training have you had with melee weapons?"

"From the moment I could walk, my mother began to teach me," Emrys said in a whisper. Noticing the look Arthur was giving her, she quickly added, "However, I don't think that type of training could compare to what the knights learn."

"On the contrary, Emrys, from what I saw yesterday, I'd argue that you are as skilled as some of our knights."

"I'm sorry, sister," said Arthur, "but I fail to see the point you're trying to make. What does your handmaiden being skilled in sword have to do with my hunt?"

Turning back to Arthur, Morgana said, "I think I have the perfect solution. Emrys has proved to me that she is more than capable of protecting you. If you wish to go on a hunt, you will take Emrys. From now on, Emrys will also partake in the job of the Royal Guard."

"Morgana," Guinevere gasped.

Arthur sputtered, "You can't just do that, Morgana! Father would never allow a servant, much less a girl to be a part of the Royal Guard."

Morgana stood up and crossed her arms. "I think you underestimate the influence I have on Father. I see no reason why Emrys should not be allowed to protect you."

"She's not a knight."

"The Royal Guard isn't made of knights anyway."

"She's still a _girl_."

"I think it's time Camelot caught up with the times. Women have proved themselves capable of occupying any job-blacksmith, bower, artisan. It's about time we show that Camelot is a modern civilization, and what better way to do that than to break tradition and install Emrys as a member of the Royal Guard?"

"No," Arthur growled. "I won't allow it."

Morgana's eyes narrowed. "You _will_, or _I _will see to it that Father bans your hunting trips entirely. I was never fond of them anyway."

"You wouldn't dare."

"You'd like to think so, wouldn't you?"

Arthur was silent for the longest time. He shared a look with Emrys, who looked just as shocked and against the idea as he was. He couldn't imagine having to share a hunting trip with _her_. It would change the dynamic of the entire outing. These hunts were supposed to be his time of relief from his palace duties. Bringing a _girl_ around would only slow the party down and detract from their success.

But he knew that if he refused, Morgana would hold true to her word and force their father to end his outings altogether. It was a cruelest of fates either way.

"Fine," Arthur spat out bitterly. "I will take Emrys, but if she proves to be incapable of 'protecting' me, I'm sending her back to you, and I don't want to ever see her on my training fields again. Do we have a deal, Morgana?"

Emrys stepped forward and locked eyes with Arthur. "We have a deal."

"Good. We leave now."


	5. His Sister's Smile (Reuben)

Reuben's heart sped up at the sight of his sister as she followed Arthur into the stables. "Sire, why is Emrys here?"

"She's coming with us," Arthur replied bitterly.

Emrys avoided Reuben's glare and shifted uncomfortably. "The princess has assigned me to the Royal Guard and instructed me to join Arthur's hunting party to insure his safety."

Of course that would be the case. He blamed the gods for such misfortune. If Emrys had only left for Carmarthen when he'd told her to…

"Reuben, what are you doing," Arthur snapped. "Find her a horse so we can depart."

"Oh, sire, Emrys is afraid of horses," said Reuben automatically, not thinking about what he had said before it was too late.

"How do you know _that_, Reuben?"

He cursed the gods again, this time for his own stupidity. "I," he stuttered, searching for an excuse. "I noticed how she began to act when she entered the stables."

"Nonsense. She can't really be afraid of horses."

"So what if I am," Emrys snapped suddenly, her back against the wall furthest from the any of the horses. One snorted and she jumped. Her labored breaths and wide eyes made Reuben think of a frightened rabbit.

For a moment, a smile teased Arthur's lips. "Do you not like horses, Emrys?"

"What is there to like about these beasts? They're terribly frightening creatures, if you think about it. And it's a common fear. Lots of people don't like horses."

Reuben didn't see how she could fear horses but willingly seek out _dragons_. Still, he saw this as the perfect opportunity to get his sister away from Arthur. "Well, I don't see how you'll be able to come if you can't ride a horse."

In the moment that it took Emrys to frown at him, Reuben realized that she would not be going back. "Don't you have something _smaller_ that I can ride?"

Arthur glanced behind him and leaned over to whisper to Reuben, "I don't particularly enjoy her being here, but the sight of her on that stunted pony almost makes it bearable."

He did find it hard _not_ laugh at Emrys, who clutched the reins to her chest and constantly eyed the pony as if it would buck at any moment. However, Reuben did not voice this to Arthur, as he still wished for his sister to not be on the trip.

"I cannot hold back any longer," said Arthur, chuckling to himself before he turned around to look at Emrys, who was beginning to trail behind the group. "You seem to be lagging behind, Emrys. Are you sure you wouldn't prefer to ride one of my stallions?"

She glared at Arthur in response. Reuben didn't know how Emrys could be so audacious as to challenge the prince so often, nor how Arthur could be so inexplicably drawn to this serving girl. Perhaps the Elders had been right when they'd spoken of the ancient connection between the two.

"I'm quite fine, thanks," she grumbled back. "How much further out?"

"Is my horse too close to you, Emrys?" Gwaine hooted. "Would you like me to speed up?"

"No need to, Gwaine," said Arthur. "We'll be traveling on foot from here." He waited for Reuben to steady the horse before he dismounted.

Lancelot unhorsed himself and made his way over to Emrys. Reuben sighed with relief and thanked the gods that Lancelot had taken it upon himself to help Emrys off of her pony. Out of the four knights there-Lancelot, Percival, Gwaine, and Tristan-knowing that someone like Gwaine hadn't done it made him feel a little better for his sister.

Emrys smoothed the creases in her dress. "Thank you, Sir…"

"Chivalrous," he replied with a smile.

Reuben was glad that Emrys at least had the sense to be embarrassed. She ducked her head and said, "Right. I apologize for that. I was out of line."

Beside him, Reuben heard Arthur scoff as he watched the interaction between the two and mumbled something about missing _his_ apology. Emrys glanced over at them as if she had heard Arthur.

Lancelot laughed. "Not entirely. I will admit that I do brush up on the Code from time to time." He brought her fingers to his lips and held her gaze. "Sir Lancelot at your service, my lady."

Reuben was surprised at Emrys when she began to giggle, and even more so when she said, "Perhaps I should call you Sir Charming, instead."

Reuben opened his mouth to say something, but Arthur beat him to it: "Emrys! If I recall correctly, you were not brought along to flirt with my knights. Remember that you promised not to become a burden." He turned and led the troop into the woods.

Emrys hitched up the skirts of her dress and closed the distance between her and Arthur, squeezing past Reuben. "How exactly am I being a burden to a hunting party that isn't hunting?"

Arthur let out an exasperated breath as he looked around the forest. Reuben knew that he was looking out for any bandits and thieves in the area. Wanderer's Pass, though typically uneventful, was known as a home for outlaws.

"We're about to," said Reuben. He gave her a pointed look and raised his eyebrows, which, thankfully, was enough this time to keep her silent.

They walked further away from the horses, with Arthur in the lead, carrying a bow and a quiver of arrows. He would stop every now and then to hold up his fist and listen to the sounds around them; then he would change directions and continue.

A couple of times, Emrys would try to get closer to him to talk. Whenever she did, Reuben made a point of ignoring her; but when she was approached by one of the knights, Reuben would call her close to him again. To his chagrin, the knights seemed to be legitimately interested in her. He became increasingly worried as they asked about her life before Camelot, as he was certain that someone would finally be smart enough to connect the two of them. He did his best to interrupt Emrys whenever she came close to revealing any shared information.

Finally, they came to a stop, and Reuben was sent with Emrys to stand lookout. He checked behind him to make sure Arthur was not watching them. "Why do you keep doing that," Emrys asked when he turned back to her.

"I'm sorry. How's your leg? Is it completely healed?"

"Reuben," she said, her eyes pleading with his. "What are you trying to do?"

"Emrys, you can't tell people that we're family."

She blinked. "What?"

"We can't let on about our relation."

"Why not? Are you embarrassed of me, Reuben? Is that why you've been acting like this?" The wind picked up in the forest, and Reuben could hear the exasperated groans of the party as whatever game they were chasing sprinted away.

"Emrys, it isn't like that," he promised. He looked back and saw Arthur motioning him back.

"Certainly sounds like it. I think you're still mad about me being here, and this is your way of trying to punish me."

Reuben groaned. There would be no winning with her. It had always been like this; but now he didn't have the time or patience to deal with this. "I'll explain later. Arthur wants us back."

Emrys clenched her jaw and stormed ahead of him. To the party, it probably just seemed like she was just mad-which she was-but Reuben could see the subtle change in their surroundings as the vicious winds trailed after Emrys.

"You'd think we were on the sea with these winds," Arthur yelled as the party traveled deeper into the forest. He turned back and looked at Emrys, who was struggling to keep her skirts from flying up in the wind. "And it would seem that my _protector_ is having trouble."

To Reuben's surprise, the winds died down, even though Emrys had turned to glare at Arthur. "I don't know if you have noticed, _sire_, but I'm not exactly in appropriate attire for this type of outing. Forgive me if I have some difficulties in this weather."

Arthur smiled. "And what exactly is 'appropriate attire', Emrys?"

"I'd like to get out of these skirts and into trousers, if possible."

Gwaine chuckled. "It would seem that you and I have similar goals, Emrys. I also desire to get you out of those skirts."

"Am I to assume that you are not around ladies often, _Sir_ Gwaine? You certainly don't seem to know how to behave in one's presence."

Reuben couldn't hold back any longer! This was his sister, not some barmaid. "Might I remind you, Gwaine, what the prince warned you earlier?"

"Reuben," said Arthur as he turned around. "How dare you…"

Reuben stopped listening as Arthur's voice began to rise. That was another weird thing: Arthur had remained silent the entire time that Emrys had mouthed off to him and his knights, but when Reuben said something he was immediately scolded for it. He glanced at Emrys, wondering about the details of their magical connection.

He suddenly noticed the wind that Emrys had kicked up had died down completely, the noise it had made replaced by the sound of breaking twigs. Arthur must've realized it too, because he immediately stopped talking and drew his sword, just in time for an arrow to knock it from his hands.

"Ambush," Arthur yelled as he scrambled on the forest floor for his sword. At the sound of his cry, the knights drew their swords to face the onslaught of bandits coming from the surrounding trees.

Reuben rushed toward his sister and drew her toward the middle of the fight, behind the protective circle of the knights. He ignored Emrys' protests, barely managing to keep her out harm's way.

"I need to help, Reuben," she cried. "That's my job. Arthur's in trouble!"

He spun around and grabbed her by the shoulders. "You don't have a sword, Emrys! How are you possibly going to be of any help?"

"I'll get a sword, then," she insisted, looking over her shoulder to see if anyone was nearby. She slipped out of Reuben's grasp and made her way toward the closest bandit, who was busying himself with Gwaine.

Reuben started to go after his sister, but stopped to avoid an arrow as it flew past him. He wished, as a servant, that he could carry his own sword to fight, but he knew that Arthur would never allow it. Still, it would've been better if he could've helped Emrys.

"Reuben," cried Arthur as he ducked underneath the sword of his attacker. "What are you-hah!-doing? Get _her_ out of here!" The prince was shoved to the ground, drawing his attention back to his fight.

He turned to obey his master, but never got the chance to complete the task. The last thing Reuben remembered seeing was the hilt of a sword before it came crashing down on his head.

Reuben awoke to the sound of rambunctious laughter. For a moment, he believed that he was in the tavern with the knights. When he opened his eyes he realized he was nowhere near the tavern. He sat up quickly and looked around.

"Yes, welcome back, Reuben," said a sullen Arthur, who was slumped against the far wall with his arms crossed. "I was wondering when you might come to again."

"What happened, sire?"

"From what I can gather, we're at Stonewall Keep."

Reuben's heart sank. Stonewall Keep was known to be the hideout of Camelot's worst thieves and bandits. If they were here, then the chances of escaping without harm were minimal-especially if they knew that Prince Arthur Pendragon was among them. "How long have we been here?"

"Relax, Reuben. It's only been a few hours. I'm sure the sun's just now beginning to set."

A second look at his surroundings made Reuben realize their party was missing quite a few members. "Where are the others?"

"They're in another cell."

"Is Emrys with them?"

"I doubt it."

"What do you mean, sire?"

"Last thing I saw, she and Gwaine got away safely."

Reuben winced and muttered, "Great. And if he continues to flirt with her the way he was earlier, I'll be surprised if we ever get rescued."

The prince sat quietly and stared at his manservant. "You seem really concerned for this girl, Reuben."

Could he risk admitting that he did? Would it make Arthur suspicious of his relation to Emrys? "I just...know how Gwaine can be."

"You should have some more faith in me, Reuben," said a voice behind him. Reuben knew before he'd even turned around that it belonged to Gwaine. The smiling fool held up a ring of keys and whistled before jiggling them into the lock.

Arthur leapt to his feet as Gwaine swung the cell door open. "Gwaine! I didn't expect you to stage a rescue so soon!" He clasped the knight in a quick hug and took the sword when Gwaine offered it.

"Well, I was going to get Emrys back to Camelot first and get the other knights," Gwaine admitted, "but Emrys insisted on finding you. Said that if we didn't go after you now, we could lose our chance of ensuring your safety."

"Where is she now?" Reuben asked.

Gwaine rubbed the back of his neck and gave a bashful smile. "I did try to stop her, but she had her mind set on splitting up. Said I would be better off defeating the guards to get to you all."

"What does that mean? Where is she?" Reuben repeated.

"She said something about getting a sword. I thought she'd meet back with us by now."

Reuben felt his heart quicken in pace. That stupid girl! Magic or not, she didn't know how dangerous it was here. And it wasn't as if she could just bring the hideout crumbling to the ground if she needed a quick escape-everyone was still inside.

Before Reuben could do anything, Arthur gripped his sword tightly in his hand and said, "Gwaine, Reuben, you free the others; I'll find Emrys."

"With all due respect, sire," said Reuben, "I think I should come with you."

"You'll only be a hindrance, Reuben."

"I might surprise you."

Arthur raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment further on the matter. With a groan, he motioned for Reuben to follow him and raced down the hallway of fallen thieves. Every so often, Arthur would stop and listen for any oncoming bandits before they continued. Reuben didn't know how Arthur knew where he was going, but he thanked the gods if it had anything to do with his connection to Emrys.

"I'll bet anything Emrys is behind those doors," Arthur whispered as he stared at the two large doors at the end of the corridor.

From the sounds of male distress calls, Reuben didn't doubt that Emrys was. He looked back at Arthur to hear his plan: "I'll distract as many as I can. As soon as you can grab Emrys, do so, and let's meet up with the others so we can get out of here. And Reuben, try your best to stay away from swords. We both know how uncoordinated you can be. You'll be of no use to anyone if you're injured."

Without another word, Arthur drew his sword and wait for Reuben to draw back the doors. Across the floor lay five fallen thieves, some obviously dead, and others only injured; Reuben didn't know if Emrys had accomplished this type of takedown with or without magic, but he was impressed. When he had last seen his sister, she had not been skilled enough in either sword or magic to do such a thing.

Emrys was occupied with a rather large thief when Arthur entered the room. She had, in fact, found a sword to fight with and, to Reuben's relief, she seemed to be fighting much better than when she had used Percival's sword. She faltered momentarily underneath the large thief and had to sidestep in order to regain her balance. She recovered quickly and brought her sword up with her, tearing a line across the thief's thin tunic.

She tried to turn her attention to face another oncoming, but instead, she was grabbed by her long dress and pulled back to him. Emrys uttered a cry of pain and kicked her feet, struggling to breathe; the other thief ran at her with his sword drawn.

"Emrys," Arthur yelled as he rushed to her defense. His sword clashed with the smaller thief, but Arthur did not let this deter him. Before his opponent could make a move, Arthur let his fist fly into his nose. The thief crumpled to the floor unconscious. "Do you want some-"

Reuben knew that Arthur didn't see it as he was turning around, but he saw his sister's eyes turn pure white, and the thief dropped her, withdrawing his burning hand. She landed a kick in his shin and smashed the hilt of her sword on the top of his head. His eyes rolled to the back of his head before he slumped down.

"-help," said Arthur meekly.

Emrys tucked some loose strands of hair behind her ear and huffed. "If you want to help me, I suggest listening when I say that I cannot fight in these skirts! That's the second hole in two days that I'll have to fix now."

Arthur scoffed. "You know you are entirely ungrateful! I just saved your life, you know."

"Saved my life? I seem to recall I was doing just fine on my own. You only came for the last bit, anyway."

Reuben couldn't help but smile as they continued to argue. Even in the middle of danger, his sister was still, well, his sister. Seeing that there were no others in the room, Reuben stepped forward.

The smile of relief that lit up Emrys' face reminded Reuben of how much he had missed her these past ten years. She cried his name, dropped her sword, and ran to throw her arms around him. "Thank the gods you're okay," she whispered into his chest. She pulled back and touched the top of his forehead. "Is everything alright? Does your head hurt?"

Arthur scoffed again and said, "Of course. _I_ risk my life to save yours, but it's the _servant_ you're worried about."

Any concern Emrys had felt for Reuben seemed to evaporate into anger as she turned around to face the prince again. She and the prince became so engaged in another argument that neither of them noticed the large thief beginning to stir.

On instinct, Reuben grabbed a sword from the dead man lying at his feet and lifted it to meet the large thief as he leapt for Emrys. The sword pierced through the thief's shoulder, and Reuben, feeling empowered, drove the sword further through. The thief fell to the floor, gasping for breath.

Arthur turned raised eyebrows to Reuben before walking over to stand above the thief. "Gardin," he said, in recognition. "One of the worst thieves Camelot has ever known."

"_The_ worst thief Camelot has ever known," said Gardin through bared teeth. "If you think you have won today. Arthur Pendragon, you are wrong. Where I fall, more will take my place. It is the spirit of this fortress that haunts these trees."

"That may be," said Arthur in a low voice, "but it would seem that _your_ reign has come to an end."

Gwaine laughed rambunctiously as they passed through the gates of Camelot. "I just wish I had been there to see it myself-_Reuben_ holding a sword!"

"He did well," Emrys said proudly, her head held high as her pony trotted alongside Reuben's horse. "You all would have been very impressed."

Arthur looked back at his manservant, taking his attention away from their unconscious prisoner momentarily. "I do have to say, Reuben, that you did manage to surprise me back there."

"I told you I would, sire," said Reuben with a smile.

"Wherever did you learn how to maneuver so easily with a sword?"

Reuben shared a look with his sister, remembering when their mother had trained them together in the art of swordsmanship. Still smiling, he said, "I suppose I just picked it up after all these years as your servant."

Arthur shrugged and said, "I suppose so. But who knew?"

"I'll tell you who knew something," said Gwaine, looking at Emrys. "I wasn't sure we were heading in the right direction after you lot were captured, but Emrys swore to me she knew where she was going. I thought she was just saying that so that I wouldn't send her back."

"Yes," Arthur mused. "I'm grateful that you decided to stay, Emrys, but why were you so against returning to Camelot?"

"Would you have preferred that I return and explain to Morgana how I lost her precious brother?" said Emrys with a glance up at the prince.

"I think you just didn't want to ride a horse back by yourself," Arthur replied, smiling greatly when his knights laughed. He dismounted as he came to the steps of the castle and doubled back to help Emrys from her pony; he quickly pulled his hands back down to his side when Emrys turned away from him to accept Reuben's help instead.

Reuben locked eyes with the prince, wondering if he should have let him help Emrys down. Turning away slowly and dismissing the idea, Reuben touched Emrys lightly on her arm and said, "Do you have any further duties tonight?"

"I should probably report back to the princess. We've returned so late, and she's probably worried that something has happened."

"I'll escort you there."

Arthur cleared his throat. "And what am I supposed to do without my manservant? I'm sure Emrys can find her way to Morgana's chambers on her own, Reuben."

Reuben expected Emrys to argue; it was obvious she knew the strange effect her connection had on Arthur. If he was honest with himself, Reuben also desired to be alone with his sister. He had things to explain to her and, after the near-death scare at Stonewall, did not want their new, budding relationship to be hindered by misunderstandings.

He almost didn't believe it when Emrys turned and cordially agreed with the prince: "Yes, I'm perfectly capable of finding my own way. But are you not coming with me to see the lady Morgana? I would think that you would have many things to discuss with her about today."

Even in the pale moonlight, Reuben could see a bit of color leave Arthur's face. He would not have thought that he and the prince shared the same desire _not_ to be the immediate deliverer of bad news. "No," said Arthur as he regained his composure. "Perhaps I will address her in private some other time. I don't particularly see a need to discuss anything with her tonight. Besides, I should make sure my father is aware of our new guest."

The gentle light of the moon cast deep shadows across Emrys' face. She hitched up her torn skirts and said, "I see that, in Camelot, brothers are accustomed to not properly acknowledging their sisters." She paused before tossing a wave over her shoulder and dismissing herself.

Arthur turned back to Reuben and said, "What was that all about?"

"I have no idea, sire."

"Really? I'm quite surprised, Reuben. I'd have thought that _you_ would know, as you've managed to read her mind thus far."

"If I had to say it was anything," said Lancelot as he stepped forward, "I'd say we've just witnessed the frustration of unrequited love."

"Yes, Reuben and I have already determined that this is the reason Emrys feels the need to challenge me," said Arthur, flippantly waving his hand. "But no matter how deep her feelings for me are, she must come to terms that it can never happen."

Suppressing a smile, Lancelot said, "With all due respect, sire, I don't think it's you, Emrys is in love with."

"Oh? Enlighten me, then."

Lancelot nodded toward Reuben. "I believe she has eyes for your serving boy."

The urge to laugh outrageously tore through Reuben with such intensity; he thought he might burst of laughter. "Me?"

"I have not seen many girls who, among the presence of knights, can retain such composure. She spent the entire trip as close to you as she could get."

Arthur let out a ferocious laugh and clapped his manservant on the shoulder. "Of course! I was a fool for not seeing this before! She only challenged me because I was fighting you. I wonder how long she's fancied you."

"Surely, that isn't the case, sire," said Reuben. He and Emrys would just have to endear this jest until it either ended or she left for Carmarthen.

"Nonsense, Reuben. What else could it be, then?"

"We're-" Reuben cut his sentence short and kept his mouth shut, as he was used to doing. He had almost said it: that he and Emrys were family. It had slipped out so naturally, he wondered why he had ever even felt the need to hide it. It was simply too big and too tedious of a secret to even attempt hiding. It would've been better if he could've come out in the open.

He suddenly froze in his place and glanced up in the direction of Morgana's chambers. He couldn't see inside, but he imagined his sister watching over the scene from above. It dawned on him that being told to hide their relation was not what she must have been expecting after a decade of separation.

And, Reuben realized, it wasn't what he wanted either. After so many years of distancing himself, being away from his sister, he did not think that he would be able to go on with this charade for much longer.

He would own their relation tomorrow, he decided. They would finally be able to reconcile their differences and resolve the issues of their past. Smiling, Reuben happily went about his final chores, knowing that tomorrow, for the first time in ten years, he would make his sister smile again.


	6. The Baker's Apprentice (Emrys)

"Emrys," a voice whispered, forcing her eyes to open.

There was more blinding sunlight and the familiar grass and lake. When she saw the Great Tree, Emrys realized where she was and spun around, her spider silk dress billowing behind her. She knew who she would be facing even before his beautiful body took form.

Anger boiled in her veins, throwing her forward. She raised a fiery hand, but before she could bring it back down, Baelfire reached out and caught her arm. He grabbed hold of her other one when she tried to strike him again.

Despite her struggling, he was able to pull her close to him with ease. He leaned into her face and locked eyes with her. This time Emrys saw that in his silver were flecks of white, the same color her eyes turned when she connected with her magic.

He kept his voice low and calm. "You will not attempt to hit me, Emrys."

"Why shouldn't I?" She wrenched her arms out of his grip and took a step away from him. "You lied to me." Two days had not been enough time for Emrys to forget the bitter truth of Baelfire's betrayal during the King's celebrations.

"I did," he admitted, "and I regret it, but lying was necessary. You would not have understood had I told you the truth."

Emrys scoffed loudly. "The truth. What is the 'truth', then?"

"No mortal, no matter how great, can escape the destiny that has been set for them. I told you before that you are tied to many things. Too much is left hanging in the balance if you do not acknowledge your role."

"No," said Emrys, shaking her head. "You must have the wrong person."

"I did not wait a millennium for the wrong person, Emrys. It is you who must accept this burden and you alone. There is no escaping it."

"I don't believe that. I will find a way to change my destiny."

Baelfire looked up at the Great Tree of Avalon. "I wish you the best of luck, Emrys, but what hope is there to find an answer that even I do not have?"

"I will not be the only one looking for an answer," she promised.

He turned his silver eyes to face her, laughing. "You think the help of your brother and uncle is enough?"

Emrys shook her head. "You will also be helping me."

"I will not," he said, his face contorting into a frown. "If you think that I will offer my help because I feel guilty about lying to you, then-"

"It's not that. You will help me because you need my cooperation."

Baelfire didn't falter. "Your cooperation? What makes you think that _I_ am need of such a thing?"

Emrys shrugged casually and turned away from him, eyeing her surroundings. "You said yourself that you needed my help. I don't think you bring me to this realm simply to communicate through my dreams."

"I do not have to explain my methods to a mortal."

She frowned and spun back around, her head held high. "You don't have to. Some things are just obvious. You think I haven't realized that you are trapped in this realm? That you need my magic to return you to your glory? What will you do if I refuse?"

Baelfire turned on her, then, his silver eyes turning dark. "You will not deny me my freedom, Emrys!"

Emrys locked eyes with him and stood her ground. "Then you _will_ be devoted to helping me, or I will allow you to remain in isolation."

For what seemed like eternity, Baelfire was silent. Finally, he spoke: "Fine. You have a deal, Emrys."

"I do not want to make deal. I want your word. No more lies between us." She extended her arm.

He grabbed her elbow in response, sealing their agreement. "You have my _word_, Emrys." His eyes snapped back to hers. "Do not think, however, that this is an alliance. I am only interested in my own survival."

"And that is what we have in common. I agree that this is not an alliance. It is a pact for mutual survival."

Baelfire grimaced and released her arm. "You were right in saying that I need your magic, Emrys, however, there is much room for you to grow. There is great power within you, but it will ultimately be your downfall if you cannot control it."

He opened his hands and summoned an old, large book. "You will need the knowledge of this grimoire."

Emrys took the book in her hands and flipped it open. The text was familiar to her, but only vaguely. "This is the language of the Druids?" She glanced up to see Baelfire nod and returned her eyes to the book.

The first page spoke of _the Prophecy_. She felt the urge to run away from the book, but she forced herself to stay there. She at least wanted to read it for herself. Her body began to tremble as she read it:

_A year shall come when stars go dark;_

_When lights and shadows blend-_

_Then all the worlds will be aligned;_

_And spell for all an end_.

_With magic, the threat of darkness be vanquished._

_With selfless blood, the price be paid._

_Only through the bond of the Mage and the Once and Future King can hope remain_.

Baelfire studied her face as she read it. "There is something on your mind," he noted.

"Yes," said Emrys, closing the book. "The Once and Future King...is that meant to be Arthur?"

"That is the title by which the Druids refer to him."

"What does it mean?"

"The bond which you and the young prince share is stronger than you may think."

"What are you talking about, our bond? What bond?" Emrys thought back to the pain that had erupted in her stomach whenever she'd been away from Arthur. She involuntarily clutched her stomach.

"Yes, that," said Baelfire, as if he could tell what she was thinking. Emrys wouldn't have been surprised if he could. "You will continue to feel physical pain so long as you continue to ignore your connection to Arthur."

"Great," Emrys mumbled. "Of all the people in Camelot I could be forced to be together with, the gods chose that prat of a prince, Arthur."

"You should keep an open mind, Emrys. You and Arthur have known each other since the dawn of magic itself. Your bond has surpassed many of your lifetimes."

"Lifetimes?"

Baelfire smiled at her.

"You promised me the truth."

"Yes, but another time, perhaps, Emrys. It would seem that you are waking up." As her vision began to blur, Baelfire said, "We really must stop leaving things like this."

Emrys woke from her vision to the gentle sound of a few birds that had gotten up early to chirp before the rest. With a lazy smile, Emrys rolled over and dropped her arm off the side of her mattress, determined to catch a few more precious moments of sleep. She snapped up when she realized that her hand was not touching the floor.

Underneath her hand was the grimoire that Baelfire had given her. She couldn't imagine how the book had traveled back with her from Baelfire's realm, but she didn't question it too much. She opened the book to _the Prophecy_ and read the first few lines again.

"Emrys," Silas called from somewhere behind her door. "Are you awake yet?"

Emrys threw her covers off and walked out. Instead of answering, she sat at the table and groaned loudly. For added effect, she slammed her head onto the table and covered her face.

Silas didn't pay any extra attention to her. He took one look at her, turned back around to make breakfast and said, "I'm afraid you'll just have to get used to waking up earlier now. As handmaiden to Princess Morgana, you're required to be there at dawn."

"Dawn," Emrys repeated, quickly bringing herself to a sitting position. She glanced out the window again, calculated the amount of time she had left to prepare herself, and raced back into her room.

With a sinking heart, Emrys remembered that her wardrobe was not nearly as extensive or expensive as Morgana's. It didn't help that two of her dresses had yet to be mended from their tears. She wanted to impress, and she knew that appearance made a significant difference.

"I have nothing to wear," she wailed from her room as she slipped out of her shift.

"What are you talking about, Emrys," said Silas, obviously not bothered by her tone. "We just bought you a new dress last week."

She vaguely remembered that trip to the market, but she could picture the dress. Her nose crinkled into a frown as she stepped into her corset. "Right," she grunted as she tried to pull the string taut. "Where was that again?"

She could hear Silas sigh. "Perhaps, if you did your chores, your room would be clean and you would know."

Emrys screamed as her next pull yanked her off of her feet and she crashed to the floor. "I'm alright," she assured Silas when he asked. It was better than when she used magic to draw the strings. Magic had worked a little _too_ well, and Emrys had almost broken two ribs in the process. She stood back up and resumed her lacing. "You wouldn't-ugh!-happen to know-huh!-where that-ahh!-dress is-one more!-would you?"

She was on the tips of her toes, trying to hold in her chest until she was done lacing. As soon as she reached the last section, she tied the string off in a quick knot and took a deep breath-as deep as she could with her chest restricted.

"I recall seeing the dress on the edge of your bed earlier."

Emrys walked over to the foot of her bed and threw back her blanket, revealing the long-sleeved, brown garment. She had a much easier time lacing that up than the corset-those things would be the death of her one day.

She laced up her leather shoes and raced out of her room, speeding by Silas. "I'm off!"

"Breakfast?" said Silas calmly.

Emrys ran back, grabbed a slab of bread, and planted a kiss on Silas' cheek. "Thanks. _Now_ I'm off."

"Emrys? I would think that I shouldn't have to remind you to refrain from using magic."

"I'll do my best," she said with a smile.

"And try not to kill Arthur," he yelled as she raced out of his chambers.

"I can't make any promises about that!"

Looking back on it, Emrys realized Silas should've made her promise not to kill Guinevere. The embittered lady-in-waiting was obviously less than pleased when Morgana relayed the story of Emrys' previous adventures with Arthur. She managed to hide her disapproval well enough-she even managed to fake a pleasant lilt in her voice-but Emrys noticed the orange hue of Guinevere's aura turn emerald as Morgana continued to praise Emrys.

"Ah, that's right, Father," said Morgana as she dabbed at her mouth with her napkin. "If you have time, I'd like to discuss with you the change in Emrys' position that I proposed yesterday."

Emrys didn't dare look at anyone, but it didn't stop her from sensing the change in atmosphere. She looked up only after Guinevere cleared her throat and said, "I don't see our usual bread on the table today. I assumed when we sat down that Reuben would bring it with him, but it would seem that I was wrong. Emrys, go down to the kitchens and fetch it for us. The delivery boy must be cross for having to wait so long for you."

Emrys almost dropped the jug of water as she went to place it on the table and managed a slight nod before escaping out the servants' entrance. Should she have spoken up and told Morgana that she did not wish to be Arthur's Protectorate? But then, how could she, with the risk of losing her head? Morgana was different from her other family members-kind and compassionate where her brother and father were aggressive and bloodthirsty. Still, Emrys did not want to test the patience of any member of the Pendragon household.

The kitchens weren't as busy as they had been the night of the banquet, but the commotion was enough to confuse Emrys when she first got there. She was distracted momentarily by the smell of food. She made a mental note to herself to eat more before leaving for work.

Emrys shook her head, clearing her mind of the distracting thoughts of food as the smell of cooking and baking wafted around her. She supposed looking for a guy carrying bread would be the best idea.

He wasn't hard to find. The bread boy was standing in the opposite corner, arguing with one of the overseers. Ebba, Emrys thought her name was. As Emrys took a closer look, she confirmed that it was she. Ebba, much like she was named for, looked like a boar, with her short, stout body, and her pinched up face. "I can't allow you to go up there! You weren't invited to come before the king."

"But I must get back, and you said I couldn't just leave it here-that someone has to come and relieve me. If I don't return soon, my master-"

"I'm here," said Emrys quickly. She apologized to a passing cook as she bumped into them trying to get to the bread boy. "I'm here."

The bread boy turned on her quickly. "Well, it's about...time."

Emrys could feel her insides heating up under the intense gaze of this serving boy. His eyes, a startling forest green, bore into her own eyes so deeply that she found herself beginning to lose focus. Before she could start babbling, Emrys forced her gaze to the floor and mumbled, "I apologize for my tardiness."

"Ah, Emrys," said Ebba, uncrossing her arms. She stretched up on her toes and smacked Emrys on the top of her head. "Consider that a warning, girl. This boy has held up my work for the last hour. The next time your tardiness causes a commotion in my kitchen…"

"Yes, yes," Emrys replied hastily, searching for a way to escape the scolding. She rubbed her forehead, successfully covering her eyes as she eyed the row of baked chicken. While she pondered the risk of using magic, she became aware of another's force shifting through the kitchen. Behind her, someone was whispering faintly.

In front of her, a sudden force compelled one of the servants passing by the table to stumble. He landed on the table, which caused the baked chickens to fly off onto the floor. Emrys had to admit she wanted to laugh, but she was more concerned about how that had happened without her doing anything. Before she could turn around, she felt one hand grip her upper arm and lead her away as Ebba directed her anger towards the commotion. She realized as she was pushed toward the exit that it was the bread boy who was compelling her forward.

Once they were away from the scene, the bread boy dropped her arm. "Sorry about that," he mumbled. With his head downcast, he held out the basket to her.

"You have nothing to apologize for," said Emrys, feeling her cheeks heat up again. "I'm the one who was late." Her hands grazed his as she went to receive the basket from him. She gasped suddenly as a surge of lingering power passed between their fingertips. "You have magic," she whispered.

His face contorted in panic and he took a tentative step away from her.

"No, wait," Emrys cried. "You do have magic, don't you?"

He grabbed her arm again and pushed her back a few feet until they were hidden in a secluded hallway. "Don't say anything."

"Wait, wait," she pleaded. "You don't have to worry." She glanced around to make sure no one else was around before allowing her magic to release itself in the form of swirling winds. "See?"

His green eyes were wide, but whether this was from shock or awe, Emrys didn't know. "Where did you learn that? To do magic without words?"

"I was born like this."

Emrys desperately wished to meet up with the bread boy again. She had missed the chance to learn his name when Reuben, who had come to look for her, had interrupted their meeting. Reuben had many questions about the bread boy-most of which Emrys couldn't answer-as well as things to tell her about the ending of breakfast.

She didn't know how it was possible, but Morgana had apparently succeeded in securing Emrys' new position. Her days were now to be split, with Emrys taking up her handmaiden responsibilities in the mornings and evenings, and her Royal Guard duties in the afternoons.

"Or whenever Arthur leave the grounds," Reuben concluded as he led her to the market.

"So what are we doing here? Shouldn't I be working?"

"You complained about being in a dress, so Arthur told me to get you some clothes."

She could imagine the flippant way the prince had probably ordered this, and didn't find it flattering in the least. She stepped away from her brother and walked through the aisles of tables. "How nice of him," Emrys said dryly as she browsed through the fabrics.

Someone reached out and brushed their fingers against her forearm. In her ear, she heard a man's voice say, "The prince is buying clothes for a servant girl with magic? How peculiar."

When she turned around, she found that it was the bread boy from before. Smiling, she said, "You startled me for a moment. I was wondering when I might see you again. I never even got your name."

"Faolán." He smiled and bowed slightly at the waist. "Baker's apprentice."

"I'm Emrys, Princess Morgana's new handmaiden."

"The princess' handmaiden? How'd you get that position?"

"The last one died."

"So it's dangerous, then? Who got you that job?"

"Emrys," cried Reuben suddenly as he made his way over.

"That would be him," said Emrys, wincing slightly.

"Who is this?"

Emrys frowned and crossed her arms over her chest. Did her brother, whom she was still not allowed to acknowledge, have any right to delegate who she could speak with? "Do you need something, Reuben?"

"Have you picked out something yet? If not, let's go, and I'll take you back another time."

"Am I not still on break right now? If Arthur doesn't need me, I should be free now, right?"

Reuben flashed a tense smile and grabbed Emrys' wrist. "Not as long as you're the princess' handmaiden."

"And if she isn't," said Faolán suddenly.

Reuben's eyes narrowed at the baker's apprentice. "Then not as long as I'm here. Don't get your hopes up, baker's boy. You're magic, and if you know what she is, then you must know how dangerous it is for her to be in this position. She doesn't need anyone who'll add to that danger."

"I can take it away," he promised.

"I doubt it. What can you possibly do to ease her burden that she cannot?"

"Emrys," cried Reuben as he chased her into Silas' chambers. "Emrys!"

Silas leapt up from his workbench, and stepped out of the way as Emrys stormed past him into her room. "Emrys? What's wrong?" When Emrys didn't answer, he turned to her brother and said, "What did you do?"

From behind her door, Emrys heard Reuben insist that he hadn't done anything. "That's a lie! He's a liar! He ruins everything!"

He shouted back, "Say what you want, Emrys! What I did was for your own good. You don't need that boy-he's magic and trouble."

"Am I trouble, then, since I'm also magic?" Wind slammed her window open and lifted the loose objects in her room in the air. "Is it such a crime to want to be with someone like me?"

"No one's like you, Emrys," said Silas, pressing up against her door. "It's best that you don't associate yourself with other magic users. Most are not as careful or as lucky as you in Camelot."

Emrys hoped they could hear her scoff from behind her door. "Lucky? Is any of this lucky? I'm being forced to follow a destiny I never wanted. And the people who I'm supposed to be able to come to about this, I can't acknowledge."

"Emrys," said Reuben softly. "I wanted to-" He gasped suddenly, and Emrys heard something drop against the floor.

"Reuben!" cried Silas. "Reuben!"

Emrys raced out of her room and found her brother crumpled on the floor, sweating intensely. "Reuben! What happened? What's wrong with him?"

"I don't know. Let me try to find something to wake him. Get him on the bed."

He was much too heavy for her, but Emrys managed to drag him onto the patient's' bed. "Reuben, please get up." How she wished she knew how to heal another person. She gasped suddenly and ran into her room. The book! Baelfire's grimoire. Where had she left it?

The door slammed open in the other room as Emrys picked up the book. Emrys panicked when she saw Arthur standing in the door. In her haste, she threw the book to the side, vowing to find it again later.

"Arthur," said Silas, bowing quickly before returning to his medicine.

"It happened to Reuben, too?"

"What do you mean," Emrys said. "What's happened?"

"Morgana's collapsed. Guinevere said she was fine an hour ago, but now she's on bed rest with a fever. She hasn't said anything coherent so far."

"What is going on," Silas mumbled.

Reuben muttered something and suddenly began to cough. Emrys immediately ran to his side and pressed her hand to his forehead. Sure enough, he had a fever. "Silas, what is this? A sickness this intense doesn't just manifest so suddenly in two people."

"No, Emrys, you're right. It doesn't. This is some kind of virus-the work of a sorcerer, I fear."

"Sorcery? Can't be. Why would a sorcerer target Reuben? Magic this powerful was used to make a servant sick?"

"I think this might've been more personal."

"How do we stop this?" said Arthur.

"Without another incantation, I'm not sure there is a way to," said Silas, shaking his head.

"That's not an option," Arthur muttered.

"Think, Silas," Emrys pleaded. "There must be something you can do."

Arthur crossed his arms. "What would you suggest, then, Emrys?"

Emrys looked up at the ceiling and saw a pair of silver eyes watching over her. She tried to keep still as Baelfire prodded her mind. "Licorice root," she said, though it wasn't her voice. "What about licorice root? Doesn't that treat viruses?"

Silas consulted his medicinal book and nodded. "Well, yes. I suppose that would work. But we would need a large amount, and they're rare in Camelot-only found in the dark woods."

"Is there not another place we can go to get this treatment," Arthur asked. "A place that has a bountiful supply?"

Silas shook his head. "Even if there were such a place, I doubt these two would have enough time left to wait for you to make the journey there and back. We'll just have to hope that you'll find enough there."

Arthur nodded. "I'll have my father bring Morgana here so you can keep an eye on her. Emrys, you should stay with Silas, take care of my sister."

What did she do? Stay with her brother or help her destined? She swallowed back all her extra voices and followed her gut answer: "With all due respect, sire, I think I would be of better help to you if I were with you in the dark woods. I am, after all, first and foremost, Silas' apprentice. You'll need my knowledge of plants and herbs to find the correct treatment."

Silas nodded and said, "It's true, sire. I can take care of them here."

"Besides, I want to help Morgana and... Reuben. He's...he's…" She began to choke up on tears as she looked upon her sickly brother.

Arthur gave her a gentle smile and put one hand on her shoulder. "I know. He's precious to you. I understand." He sighed, shook his head and said, "Alright, Emrys. I'll let you come along."

Silas held Emrys back before she went chasing after Arthur. "Emrys, please be careful. I've warned you against going there for a reason. Those trees are full of black magic, and it's been known to cause delusions. If you're going with Arthur, you need to make sure your magic doesn't break free of your control."

"It won't." She nodded toward Reuben. "I won't let my magic do anything that puts my brother at risk. I _will_ save him."


	7. The Dark Woods (Arthur)

"Were you not interested in using horses, sire," said Gwaine. He smiled, even when Emrys turned to glare at him. "It was a simple question, dear. No need to get upset."

"I'm not upset," Emrys promised through tight teeth. "However, I am surprised that you find it appropriate to make jokes at such a dire time as this. Your princess' life is at stake, and you..."

Arthur could no longer hear Emrys' rant over the rage of the winds. "Leave her alone, Gwaine. She's right-we'll need to take this seriously. The situation is all too real for us to spend any time making jokes. Besides, if these winds are any indication, I think whoever this sorcerer is knows we're coming for him. We'll need complete focus from everyone."

Gwaine nodded and sobered immediately. "Yes, of course, sire." He and the other three hurried forward until they disappeared into the dark woods, leaving the prince and serving girl behind.

Emrys crossed her arms over her chest and tucked some loose hair behind her ear as the winds began to die back down. Arthur wasn't entirely sure, but he thought he heard her mumble some gratitude. He turned to ask her to repeat herself, but was distracted by the sight of her apparel. "Emrys," he groaned. "What _are_ you wearing?"

She looked down at herself. Obviously, she saw nothing wrong with her disgruntled trousers, loose slip, and leather slippers. "What do you mean? I told you I can't go on these adventures with you in a dress."

"Yes, and didn't I send Reuben out to get you some more...appropriate clothes?"

"We weren't able to finish shopping. What's wrong with these?"

"You look…"

"I look like what?"

"Like a peasant."

"Well, sire, is that not what I am?"

"Yes, but you don't have to _look_ like one. I mean, for God's sake, Emrys, you're part of the Royal Guard now. You'd better look like you're...well, part of the team."

"I didn't realize this was some sort of fashion parade. Forgive me for bringing my peasantry into this mix." She stopped suddenly at the edge of the dark woods.

Arthur glanced back at her. "Are you coming, Emrys?"

He could tell that she was frightened, even without her saying anything. No doubt she was battling fears brought from the rumors of the dark woods. The stories made him a little nervous, too, but he had to push through his fears with so much at stake if they failed.

"I think it was a mistake, me coming here," she whispered, her small voice barely audible with the growing sound of the mumblings of the dark woods.

"Hey," he said, drawing her eyes away from the forest. "That's not true. We need you for this, Emrys. You're the only one who knows what the plant looks like-without you, we can't save Morgana and Reuben. It was not a mistake, you being in Camelot. I see now that you're here for a reason. Without you, Camelot would suffer a great loss."

For a moment, he could've sworn she was about to cry. She glanced back at the trees and wiped at her eyes, pushing back any tears. With a sad smile, she said, "I should hope my purpose is not that great."

Still feeling the need to comfort her, Arthur reached out to put a hand on her shoulder as he helped her take the first step. "Don't worry. We'll find the licorice root and save Morgana _and_ Reuben. Nothing bad is going to happen."

She sniffled and managed to smile. "You seem pretty sure, Arthur Pendragon. What makes you so confident nothing will happen?"

He shrugged, not truly knowing the answer himself. Seeing that she was unhappy with this, he decided on saying, "I just have a feeling."

At that moment, the whispers from the forest increased, and the winds began to rage again, bending the trees toward the pair. On instinct, Arthur drew his sword and stepped in front of Emrys. "Lancelot! Gwaine!" he yelled into the dark woods, hoping that the knights hadn't gone too far. A black mist crept out of the darkness of the trees and inched toward them.

"What's happening," Emrys asked, stepping backwards to avoid the mist.

"If I had one guess, I'd say it was the sorcerer! Stay behind me!"

No sooner did he said this did the black mist became a wave and overtake them both. Arthur swung his sword around wildly, but the mist came back thicker with each swing. "I don't have time for this," he yelled in frustration. He had to get the licorice root. He had to find his knights. He had to find-"Emrys! Where are you? Emrys!"

He thought he heard someone yell his name back, but their voice was drowned out by the increase of mystical voices in the dark woods. Arthur abandoned the idea of using his sword again and chose a direction to run. Despite his great skills in tracking and navigating, Arthur found that he had no clear way of determining where he was going or if it was doing him any good. No matter where he went, the fog did not lessen and the trees surrounding him did not differentiate amongst themselves.

Arthur sunk to the ground and fell back on his arse. If he stayed there long enough, maybe he would be able to figure something out. For a long time, he received no answer. Finally, Arthur grabbed his hair and clenched his hands into fists. "Reveal yourself, sorcerer! I know you're there!"

For once, the voices in the dark woods ceased. From the darkness to his immediate right, Arthur heard a male say, "Who are you to demand that I reveal myself to you?"

Arthur quickly got to his feet and gripped his sword tightly in his fists. "I am-"

"I know very well who you are, Arthur Pendragon. What I mean is who are you to _me_? Do you not see my power? Should such a being be bound to an earthly ruler such as yourself? Why have you and your knights invaded my woods?"

"I come to your dark woods only to find a cure for the curse _you_ have placed on the princess and my servant."

"Why should I let you break my curse? I put a lot of work into that spell, you know."

"They have not wronged you, sorcerer," Arthur yelled. He could barely make out a dark shape in front of him. Subtly, he turned his body toward the figure and angled his sword precariously.

The sorcerer scoffed. "Haven't they? Whether it was their intention or not, they have caused me pain, Pendragon."

Arthur sobered and lowered his sword a little. "Please, sorcerer, I beg you. They don't deserve this. What do you want in return for the licorice root?"

"Licorice root? You would need a bountiful supply to break my curse, and these woods simply do not have that amount. To give you the number you would need for your cure, it would require me to use my magic. I am powerful, but I do have my limits."

"Please," Arthur begged. "I'll do anything for it. Name your price, sorcerer."

The whispers picked up as the sorcerer pondered for a moment. "Very well. Not too long ago, there was a girl looking for the same plant."

"Emrys?" Arthur remembered how frightened Emrys had been before coming to the dark woods. How scared she must be at this moment!

"Yes, that would be her. If you want to save your sister and your servant, you must leave the girl here."

Dread fell over Arthur. "What use would you have of Emrys?"

"That is not for you to know, Pendragon!"

"Please, ask for something else-anything else. I can give you gold."

"I would not trade possession of this girl for any amount of gold."

"I can pardon you! I can guarantee that no harm will come to you from my father's hand."

"Having the girl will grant me all the safety I need."

"Please, I cannot give you Emrys."

"What do you care? She is but a serving girl in your castle. What value does she hold for you?"

"I...She is my sister's favorite handmaiden. She would never forgive me if I saved her at the expense of Emrys' life."

The sorcerer was silent for a long time. Then, finally, he said, "I will accept nothing other than the girl. If you cannot bring yourself to release the girl to me, then I will simply take her myself, and you can forget about the cure. I hope Camelot is prepared for the death of your sister."

Arthur lifted his sword and, with an outraged yell, lunged at the dark shadow. The figure became one with the darkness around them and slipped away from the edge of Arthur's sword. A deep chuckle rumbled through the forest, and Arthur felt a tingle down his spine as he spun around to try and find the sorcerer.

In the distance, four dark figures approached him on all sides. Arthur prepared himself and charged the one directly in front of him. To his surprise, his sword met another's. The figure and its sword feigned left and spun out to its right, a move that was all too familiar to Arthur. "Tristan!" he cried as he ducked underneath his swing.

His attackers ceased where they were. "Arthur," said the once in front, definitely Tristan. The shadows remained, but it was obvious that the four figures surrounding him were his knights.

"Well, that's a relief," said the shadow behind Arthur, in a voice that matched Gwaine's usual tone. "I was beginning to think I'd never find you lot. I thought you all were playing another prank on me."

"It's no prank, Gwaine," Arthur assured him. "But has anyone seen the sorcerer? He's after Emrys."

The giant figure to his left unsheathed its sword. "What does the sorcerer want with our little wench?"

"I don't know, but we need to find Emrys, get the root, and get back to Camelot quickly."

"I don't know if you've noticed, sire," said Gwaine, "but our vision's still a little less than clear at the moment. How are we supposed to do any of that? The sorcerer has the upper hand."

Arthur ignored Gwaine and yelled into the mist. "Emrys!" After his third try, the other knights joined him in calling for the handmaiden. Arthur could feel sweat begin to form on his forehead. Nothing could make him want to find Emrys more, but he was actually beginning to worry about what Morgana would do to him if the girl were truly lost to the sorcerer forever. Whatever plagues the sorcerer could conjure up to afflict him with would probably be a treat compared to the storm that Morgana would bring.

"Wait," cried Lancelot suddenly. "Do you guys hear that?"

Arthur did. It was faint, but the voice calling his name was steadily growing. "Emrys!" he rejoiced, happily running in the direction of the sound. As he ran, he saw a breaking point in the fog. The break of light in the fog was moving toward him, and as he got closer, Arthur saw that it was Emrys, surrounded by a bright light.

He stopped running, though he was certain that what he was seeing was not a vision from the sorcerer. "Emrys?" The knights had stopped beside him as well.

She smiled and closed the distance between all of them, clutching something in her hands. "I'm so glad I finally found you guys! I found the licorice root. There was plenty to spare." Her smile faded as she looked around at the others. "What's wrong?"

Arthur wanted to rejoice, but he couldn't get over the bright light. "Emrys, I can see you clearly."

She frowned and said, "Congratulations. I can see you clearly too, sire. All of you. Now, shouldn't we get out of here to get the cure to Silas?"

"She's right, sire," said Lancelot. "We have no time to waste. The sorcerer may return."

"Yes," Gwaine agreed, "but the prince has a point. You lot are all shadows, but Emrys is the only thing I can actually see."

Emrys fidgeted underneath their gazes. "I don't understand. What's wrong with you? I can see everything and everyone perfectly fine. Can't you?"

"The sorcerer was looking for you, Emrys," Percival's shadow said. "He must've done this to you to make you easier to find."

Arthur watched Emrys closely as the other knights contributed their own ideas. Where she stepped, he could see the part of the forest that surrounded her, but beyond Emrys, the darkness returned and covered his sight. The light that encased her was so vibrant and brilliant that Arthur swore it was otherworldly. It definitely made her more noticeable. He looked away suddenly as she caught him staring-she must have been able to see him looking at her. She could see everything. "Wait! You can see everything, Emrys?"

"Yes," she said slowly. "I just said that."

"Then you can see Camelot. You can lead us out of here!"

Emrys nodded and stretched her hand out to him. As soon as the licorice roots dropped into his hand, they became shadows. "Hold onto these, then." She turned, located the castle, and raced off in that direction.

Arthur and the knights did their best to look out for the sorcerer's figure. If Percival was right, and the sorcerer _had_ marked Emrys to find her, then it was only a matter of time before the only light thing in the dark woods drew his attention.

Luckily for them all, Emrys didn't have her skirts to slow her down. Arthur couldn't help but notice how natural she looked, running amongst nature. For a moment, he thought he was seeing a different version of Emrys-not the Emrys who was his sister's handmaiden, nor the Emrys who infuriated and intrigued him with her mysterious, natural power. This was the Emrys who would probably be content to run forever in the essence of nature.

Arthur shook these thoughts away and followed her to the edge of the dark woods. As his knights passed over, they became clear to him too. Arthur's legs pushed harder against the ground, spurring him forward. His body crashed against the edge, as if a barrier had formed between him and the light.

"Arthur," Emrys screamed.

"What is this," Arthur asked as he pushed against the barrier.

"I told you, Pendragon," said the sorcerer behind him. "Either the girl or the licorice root stays. What will it be?"

Arthur clenched his fists over the hilt of his sword.

"Fine. Then I'll let the girl decide. If you choose to stay with me here, then the prince may bring the root to his sister and servant. If you should choose not to, then, you should still have time to say your goodbyes when you return."

"What do you want with me," Emrys asked.

"You have a very unique gift, Emrys, one that, after seeing it, I've come to realize I cannot be without. With you by my side, I would be limitless, no match for the likes of Camelot or any kingdom, for that matter." He stepped forward and reached for Emrys, grazing her cheek with his fingers. She flinched and gasped at the touch. "We could-"

"_No_," Arthur roared, unsheathing his sword and dropping the root. He swung his weapon upward, toward the hooded sorcerer's head, and heard a satisfying scream from the sorcerer as the blade met skin. Before anyone else could react, Arthur ran forward, past the edge of the dark woods.

Breaking past the trees was like a splash of refreshing water against the face; his vision only took a moment to right itself again. He didn't let his recuperating vision deter him. As soon as his feet touched the ground, he grabbed Emrys' hand, and he propelled himself forward. His knights and Emrys kept at his heels, and they did not stop running, even when they were behind the gates.

He had struck the sorcerer and left him alive to eventually exact revenge. His father would be disappointed. Whatever curse the sorcerer brought on Camelot now would be his own fault. He'd been given a choice, and he had chosen the serving girl over his sister, the princess. As much as his decision didn't make sense to him, he couldn't bring himself to regret it.

He knew, without a doubt, that he would've chosen to save Emrys a thousand times. He could only hope that Silas had found some other way to save his sister and Reuben.

"Emrys! Arthur," Silas cried, standing up to greet them. "You've arrived just in time! The only thing the elixir needs is the licorice root. You have it, right?"

"Silas," Emrys started.

"We failed," Arthur finished for her. "We came across the sorcerer, and he made it impossible for us to come back with the cure." He looked at Morgana, who was deathly pale and had broken out in a sweat. Unlike Reuben, who was breathing heavily from his cot, Morgana was almost perfectly still, saving for her quivering lips. Even on her deathbed, his sister was perfectly regal.

"That's not true!" Emrys cried.

Wasn't it enough that he would not be able to save his sister because of her? How could she be so cruel as to tease him with this hope? Arthur turned to yell at her, but stopped when he saw what Emrys was pulling from his pockets. "Emrys…"

The knights whooped loudly and hugged each other. Arthur found that one of the tears he had been suppressing had managed to slip through. All he could do was stare at the most wonderful miracle he had ever witnessed, and it had come in the form of a plant.

"I told you there was plenty to spare."

She passed the white flowers to Silas, who quickly snipped the bottoms off and added them to the bubbling substance on his workbench. Together, Emrys and Silas fed the brown liquid to Morgana and Reuben.

Once all the elixir had been drunk, Emrys stepped back and clasped her hands in front of her mouth, whispering what Arthur assumed to be soft prayers. Her eyes filled to the brim with tears as what felt like an eternity passed.

Suddenly, Reuben and Morgana sat up with a gasp, the inhale of air bringing color back to their faces. Emrys let out a joyous cry and threw herself into Reuben's arms, blubbering meaningless words all the while. Arthur sat by his sister's cot and drew her close to him, not caring if the knights saw him in an emotional state.

Somewhere, among all the celebration, Arthur heard his father burst into the room. "Silas? I heard that Arthur had returned, and…" His worried face melted into a grateful smile as his eyes fell on his daughter. "Morgana. Oh, my girl, you have no idea how happy I am to see you well again. I didn't know how I would go on without you." He rubbed Arthur's head. "Without _both_ of you."

From underneath his father's hand, Arthur caught sight of Emrys, whose face was resting against Reuben's shoulder. For the first time in all the years that Arthur had known him, he had never seen his manservant so content and happy as he was in Emrys' arms, and he didn't doubt that this was not the first time he had found comfort being with her. Despite himself, he found himself smirking at the idea of his manservant and the handmaiden. Though it made sense, there was something about the familiarity between the two that didn't quite suggest a romance.

When Emrys rose to tend to Morgana-and accept more praise-Arthur caught Reuben's eyes. In that moment, he remembered that before Reuben had fallen ill, he had proclaimed that there was something he had wanted to publicly announce.

His father's hand clapping down on his shoulder shook Arthur from his thoughts. "It would seem that Emrys has proved herself to be valuable to this family. I must admit, after hearing about all of her adventures these last few days, I am quite intrigued by Morgana's new handmaiden."

"You aren't the only one," Arthur mumbled. Remembering his duty, suddenly, he said, louder, "Father, there's a lot I wish to tell you."

"Ah, Emrys," said Arthur, stepping out of his room as the handmaiden was leaving Morgana's. "Have I caught you at a bad time?"

He knew that he had-he'd done so on purpose-but Emrys merely sighed and clenched her jaw. Even after today's long events, Emrys had returned to the princess' side to complete her duties. She was, no doubt, exhausted, but Arthur had to admire her dedication to his sister.

"I wanted to discuss the little prank you pulled on me this afternoon."

"What prank, sire?"

"Why didn't you tell me you had more of the licorice root?"

"I did, sire. It isn't my fault you jumped to conclusions. I hope Silas will never be in need of more licorice root now-we used up all of the root that was in my pockets."

"Um, considering the circumstances, I think Silas will find it in him to forgive me. I did give it up for a noble cause."

"Oh? What cause was that?"

Did she really not know? "That sorcerer wanted to trap you with him forever in exchange for those roots."

"Yes, I heard him."

"Well, did you not also see that I chose to save you? I don't think you're realizing the gravity of the situation, Emrys. I chose to save _your_ life over my servant's _and_ my sister's. Had you not had more of the root, they would have died."

"Well, then, why did you make that choice?"

"What do you mean?"

"You had every right and justification to leave me behind, never mind my position, with the lives of _two_ other people at stake...why did you even consider saving me?"

"Well," said Arthur, rubbing the back of his neck, as he pondered his answer. "Whether or not either of us enjoy it, we're a team. And members of a team always look out for each other."

She was silent for a moment. Then, in the next, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his waist, burying her face in his chest. "Thank you, then, for saving my life," she whispered, though he heard it clear as a bell.

Arthur cleared his throat and said, "Well, yet again, you saved mine first. And besides, Morgana would've killed me if I had let you die."

Emrys laughed and stepped back. "I suppose she would have."

"But the important thing, Emrys, is that something like this will never happen again."

"What do you mean?"

"I've spoken to my father, and he's found the perfect solution to ridding Camelot of this sorcerer." He smiled, quite proud of himself for taking the initiative in a dire situation such as this. "Father's hired a witch hunter."


	8. The Witch Hunter (Morgana)

_Executed at dawn._

_Despite the blindfold, she knew exactly where she was; the stiff prodding of the pyre in her back and the roaring insults of the crowd serving as her reminder. She rolled her shoulders, testing the limited range of movement she was allowed with her hands being constricted from behind. A sharp pain in her upper back told her it wasn't a lot._

_"I told you I would see you burn," said a man in front of her. His unrecognizable voice sent a chill down her spine, making her tremble. _

_She tried to speak up against his accusations, but her surveyors drowned any sound she made out. Instead, she began to wiggle, despite the pain, and pulled against her bonds. She stopped when someone suddenly struck her against her cheek. Blood boiled in her mouth as a hand clamped down on her neck and forced her head back upwards._

_The blindfold was roughly snatched off of her face, the guard ripping a few flyaway hairs from her neck along with the cloth. Though the afternoon sun threatened to blind her, she forced herself to glare at the man standing in front of her. _

_He didn't flinch away from her gaze; in fact, the corner of his mouth twitched up in a half-smile. The man leaned forward on his cane, peering at her with his empty black eyes. He frowned for a moment when she spat her blood at his feet, but regained his composure as he turned to face the crowd. _

_"I give to you, the witch of Camelot: Emrys!"_

A scream burst from Morgana's throat as she sat upright in her bed. Someone called her name and suddenly warm arms wrapped themselves around her shoulders, cradling her face and drawing her into the safety of the comforter's body. As the hands smoothed back the curls on her head, a voice hummed a simple lullaby until Morgana's hyperventilation slowed to a soft breathing.

"Morgana, are you alright?"

She recognized the voice as her handmaiden's without looking up. Morgana sniffled and held Emrys close to her, the visions of her dream beginning to fade away. "Oh, Emrys, it was horrible. I had a terrible, terrible nightmare." She laughed bitterly and pulled away, wiping at her eyes. "I'm sorry, Emrys. It's normally Guinevere who has to deal with me when I'm like this."

"No, no," Emrys said soothingly. "I don't mind at all. Do you want to talk about it, princess? I don't want you to feel like you have to deal with this by yourself."

Morgana smiled and shook her head. Her handmaiden was sweet and caring, but Emrys could not possibly handle the burden of Morgana's nightmares. Emrys might not think much of them, but someone else might, if she spoke of them, especially since Morgana's nightmares had a strange tendency of actually coming to pass. "I'll be fine, Emrys. You needn't worry about me."

Only a beat passed between them before Emrys said, "It's the witch hunter, isn't it? Reuben said he's supposed to arrive today."

Morgana smiled at Emrys' mention of Reuben. In the past two weeks, she'd noticed that Arthur had kept his manservant particularly busy in Emrys' presence. Emrys had casually mentioned this to Morgana, who in turn had questioned Arthur, only to learn that there may be some type of attraction between their two servants. "I'm glad you and Reuben have found time to be with each other."

If Emrys did understand what Morgana was insinuating, it didn't show. The girl simply smiled and said, "I only see him for a little time before and after work, and all he talks about is Arthur."

Morgana laughed, glad that they had finally changed the subject. "That's funny-Arthur seems to think that he only speaks of you. Do you have any idea what Reuben's been trying to say all this time?"

Emrys shook her head and made her way over to the window to draw the curtains back. "He won't tell me. Apparently, he really wants the revelation to be in front of _everyone_. I can only imagine what he's planning on saying."

Morgana found that she _could_ imagine exactly what Reuben had to say. The idea of her and Arthur's servants having a romantic rendezvous excited her, almost to the point of forgetting the witch hunter. Almost, until Guinevere burst into her chambers, saying quickly, "He's here!"

Morgana felt as if her heart was going to burst as she awaited the witch hunter's entrance. Though her face was perfectly tame, her hands betrayed her real feelings as they wrung nervously within the folds of her dress. She would've given anything _not_ to be in the grand hall at that time.

As if she could sense her mistress' distress-and Morgana wouldn't doubt it if she could-Emrys slid a comforting hand over Morgana's shoulder and squeezed gently. When Morgana looked up from her seat, Emrys smiled, as if to say that everything would be alright. She wished that she could believe that, after her dream. It seemed that this man would be nothing else but added anxiety.

It seemed that Arthur believed the witch hunter would lead to the end of Camelot's troubles, though. He stood beside their father, at the base of the royal seats, and turned around often to flash a bright smile at Morgana. Although, if Morgana thought twice about it, it seemed more like he was smiling at Emrys.

The last time Camelot had hired a witch hunter, at least twenty people had burned. Her father had described it as "exciting". Emrys wouldn't possibly have known about that, and had more likely inquired about the witch hunter. Morgana was sure that this was only the beginning of the "excitement" Arthur may have promised Emrys.

The guards at the end of the hall separated to open the doors, revealing a tall, thin man in an overcoat. The sound of his cane striking against the floor echoed as he made his way up to Uther.

"Camelot welcomes you, Malin," Uther proclaimed, his hand extended to greet the witch hunter. "It's good to have you here, old friend."

Morgana bit back her astonishment when Malin simply sneered at Uther's hand, choosing to lean upon his cane instead. "You've grown soft, Uther. You have allowed magic to infiltrate your kingdom. Even as I stand here in your hall, I feel myself overwhelmed with its very presence."

Morgana had never seen her father so embarrassed! Uther cleared his throat and retracted his hand subtly. He nodded toward Arthur and said, "You remember my son, Arthur. He will be aiding you during your stay."

Arthur dutifully acknowledged the witch hunter and said, "My men and I are at your service, should you need any assistance."

Malin did not smile. "My boy, by the time you even began to rally your men, I will have already finished my business." His bottomless eyes flicked up to meet Morgana's for a moment, narrowing as if he were in deep thought.

Shifting his weight onto his better leg, Malin looked back at Uther and said, "I trust, Uther, that you will have the proper accommodations in order for me. There is work to be done, and I'd like to get started as soon as possible."

Uther cleared his throat again and said, "Yes, of course. I'd like that too. We thank you again for making the trip here."

"Yes, when I am done, Camelot will no longer be harrowed by sorcery or those who pursue it. Have your pyre ready, Uther; I expect to see a witch burning soon."

"I can't believe Father brought him back," Morgana fumed as she watched herself in the mirror. Guinevere stood behind her, undoing the braid that traveled down Morgana's back in preparation for bed. "After all the distress Malin caused last time…"

"I'm sure it's for the best, Morgana."

Morgana scoffed loudly. "The best? For whom? Father has no real reason to pick a quarrel with these people."

"Morgana, you almost _died_ because of those people."

"But I didn't-"

"Because Emrys and Arthur happened to get lucky." Guinevere shrugged when Morgana turned to look at her in surprise. "It's the truth, Morgana, and you know it. I don't think Camelot could handle another close call like that."

Morgana opened her mouth to say something, but was cut short when she heard Arthur yelling outside her door. After settling into her robe, she nodded for Guinevere to open the door. "Arthur! What are you fussing about?"

Arthur, a frown still set upon his face, turned away from his manservant and said, "It's none of your concern, Morgana. Reuben just seems to be having trouble focusing as of late."

She could imagine he was. "Is it about Emrys?" Morgana asked, flashing Reuben a knowing smile.

Reuben coughed and fidgeted in place before answering: "I was just wondering, princess, where Emrys was."

Now that she thought about it, Morgana realized that she hadn't seen Emrys for a while. "Is she still training?"

Arthur shook his head and indicated toward the end of the hall. "I sent Emrys off with Guinevere an hour ago."

When Morgana turned toward Guinevere, her lady-in-waiting said, "The witch hunter called for her."

Before Morgana could even begin to move, Reuben sprinted off in the direction of the witch hunter's room, ignoring all cries of protest from Arthur. Morgana lifted the skirts of her dress and, urging the other two to follow her, raced after Reuben.

She couldn't explain her fear, but she knew that there was something bad about Emrys being with the witch hunter. Even though she knew it was irrational to believe anything other than Emrys being perfectly fine, she couldn't ignore her gut feeling that something was wrong.

As Morgana rounded the corner, she saw Reuben pounding on Malin's door. In his haste, he must've forgotten his etiquette, because he had begun to shout for Malin to hurry.

"What?" Malin roared when he had opened the door. "What, boy?"

"Malin," said Morgana quickly, stepping in for Reuben. "We're a little pressed to find my maidservant, Emrys."

Malin leaned against his cane and shrugged his shoulders in indifference. "I cannot help you much, if you don't know yourself." Nodding toward Arthur, he said, "I sent the girl off a few moments ago with one of your knights."

"One of my knights," Arthur repeated, his face contorted in confusion.

"Yes, I'm sure he said you'd sent for her to return to the stables. I told her we would continue our discussion afterwards."

"What knight? Who did you send her with," cried Reuben desperately.

Malin turned his cold eyes on the manservant and sneered. "You'd do well to remember your place, even in your distress. I didn't care to remember the knight's name, but he reeked of wine."

Morgana didn't need Arthur to confirm her suspicion, but she felt her stomach lurch anyway when Arthur said, "Heior. We need to get to the stables and find Emrys. Now is not the time for him to be teasing her."

"I fear that this is not about horses, sire," Reuben said in a voice barely above a whisper.

In the look that he shared with his manservant, Arthur seemed to realize some hidden subtext and hurried out the corridor with the others trailing behind him. Morgana hadn't thought it was possible, but she was pretty sure Arthur was even faster than Reuben had been before.

When she saw the stables, Morgana forced herself to run faster. The boys reached the doors first and disappeared inside. Someone yelled Emrys' name, the sound followed quickly by a man's cry and the frightened whinnies of the horses inside. For a moment, Morgana feared the worst for her friends; Heior was not the best fighter, but he was known to be more reckless when inebriated.

The first thing Morgana looked for was Emrys when she reached the inside of the stables. Her maidservant seemed unharmed, save for a long tear in the sleeve of her dress. When she turned around to see what Emrys was yelling about, Morgana was surprised to see that Reuben had tackled Heior to the ground, and Arthur was struggling to pull him off.

Heior's desperate hands did nothing to protect him from Reuben's raining punches. Even when Arthur finally managed to separate the two, Reuben continued to claw at Heior, yelling all the while, "You varlot! You misbegotten son of a whore! I'll _kill_ you! Don't you _ever_ touch her again, or I'll see to it that you burn in hell!"

As soon as the words had left his lips, Heior screamed and burst into flames. Arthur and Reuben scrambled to get out of the burning knight's way; Guinevere fled the stables; Morgana stood frozen in shock.

Emrys ran forward, past the frightened horses, and wrapped her arms around the inflamed Heior. With unimaginable strength, she threw him off his course and pulled him toward the water trough. A charred elbow caught her in the face, but Emrys shook her head and pushed against Heior until they both fell face first into the water.

Arthur grabbed a bucket, filled it with water from the trough, and poured it over Heior's body while Emrys tried to splash as much water as she could onto him. When the fire had been extinguished, Morgana saw that Heior was slumped against the trough, his body blackened by the fire. Arthur poked him with his foot and then leaned down to press his ear to Heior's mouth, only to confirm that Heior was, in fact, dead.

Emrys crumpled to the floor and, placing her hands over her mouth, shook from her unreleased sobs. For a while the only sound in the stables was that of the scared horses.

Reuben dropped to his knees and pulled Emrys into a tight hug, holding her close to him by her neck. "Emrys," he sighed, planting a long kiss on her forehead. "Emrys, are you alright?"

She shook her head, saying, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I tried, but I couldn't...I wasn't able to…"

Reuben shushed her and hugged her even tighter. "It's okay. It's alright. Did he hurt you?"

"No," Emrys whispered into his shoulder, and Morgana realized that Emrys hadn't been hurt at all. For a girl who had just dragged a burning knight into a water trough, she had no marks to show for it. Emrys' skin was surprisingly smooth.

Morgana wasn't the only one who had noticed. "No," said Arthur roughly. He stepped over Heior's body and made his way over to Emrys, who rose to meet him. In one swift move, he grabbed Emrys by her shoulders and looked her over. "You're not in the least bit injured. Why?"

"Arthur," Reuben started, standing up as well. "I can explain things."

"Well, then explain, Reuben. What's going on?"

"That's what I'd like to know," said Uther, as he walked into the stables. Guinevere, Silas, and Malin trailed behind him, leading a small group of his knights. Uther eyed Heior as Silas went to inspect him and then turned his gaze back to Reuben. "Please explain this to me."

Arthur let go of Emrys and spun around to face his father. "Father," he started to say, but silenced himself when Uther raised his hand.

Uther lowered his hand and said, "Your lady-in-waiting, Morgana, came to me saying that one of the knights had burst into flames. I see now that you've managed to put him out. I simply want to know what happened."

Arthur cleared his throat and recalled the events for his father. Morgana noticed that Arthur strayed away from describing what had obviously been magic, but Uther asked about it anyway. When Arthur didn't respond, Malin stepped forward.

"I can explain that part, sire. I feel I don't need to say this, but it's obvious that the magic in Camelot is much closer than any of us probably expected. If I had to wager a guess as to who the sorcerer was who killed this knight," he said as he pointed an accusing finger to his right, "I'd say that it was the girl, Emrys."

Morgana could feel herself losing color. Without realizing it, she had crossed the stables and taken hold of Emrys' hands. The girl was stunned into silence, leaving Morgana to plead for her. "Malin, you must be mistaken."

"I am never mistaken. Your handmaiden is a witch, and I can prove it. Looking at her now, I can clearly see that she is a despicable creature of magic." He turned his dark eyes to Emrys, saying, "You may as well admit it, girl. You've been caught."

"Father, please," Arthur protested. "This is ridiculous! Emrys isn't a sorceress."

Uther didn't seem convinced. "You didn't seem to believe the same thing a moment ago."

"Then let me ease your mind, sire," said Silas. "I've lived with the girl-I know her. She is no sorceress."

"She could have put you under a spell, Silas," Malin challenged. "We cannot trust what any of you may say. Not when she may be using her powers to her benefit."

Silas narrowed his eyes and clenched his jaw before answering. "I may be old, Malin, but I am still aware of when my mind is my own. I can accurately and positively state that the girl does not have magic. She's unaffected by such practices."

Morgana's ears pricked at that word. "Unaffected," she repeated. Then, because everything finally made perfect sense, Morgana began to laugh. "That's what it is!"

She was aware that everyone was staring at her as if she'd gone mad, but she didn't care. She understood exactly what was going on now, and when Uther asked her to elaborate, she happily said, "Emrys is unaffected by magical practices! She's impervious to magic!"

There was a beat of silence throughout the stables before Malin repeated what she said. "Yes," Morgana exclaimed. "Just think about it! When Emrys first came to us, she was the only one who saw through Noren, the only one who was able to get to Arthur when everyone else was frozen or controlled-that's why he was interested in her!"

Arthur must've realized the connection as well, because he laughed loudly and said, "The plague sorcerer! He said that Emrys had a unique gift, something that would make him limitless if she was by his side. He must've known that Emrys could not be touched by magic, and anyone with her would be protected."

Emrys fidgeted nervously underneath everyone's gaze and looked down at her feet. She looked up only when Malin spoke again: "I highly doubt she's resistant to magic-I've never heard of such a trait."

"I've seen it before," Silas said suddenly. "It's an extremely rare trait, but it is one that is still possible to possess. I'd thought those born with it were extinct before meeting Emrys."

Malin scoffed loudly and then spit into the hay at his feet. "It sounds like a different branch of magic, sire."

"It isn't! It's not magical at all." Morgana had never seen Silas so angry before. The calm physician had never once raised his voice in all the years Morgana had known him. Perhaps, Malin's presence was enough to strain everyone's patience.

"Then why is this just now being made known?"

"I instructed her not to tell anyone. I didn't want her gift to be misunderstood, as it is now."

"Malin," said Uther, "I'd like to return to this topic later. There is still the issue of the sorcerer at large. Do you think this was done by the plague sorcerer?"

Malin sniffed and eyed Emrys. "I still insist that this was done by the girl."

"It wasn't," Reuben yelled loudly, silencing everyone. He cowered only slightly under the gaze of his superiors, and turned to look at Emrys, who had reached out for his arm. "I swear to you all that Emrys wasn't the one who caused this."

"There's an easy way to determine this," Malin suggested. "The girl would have to come back in for questioning. I doubt I've made a mistake, but if the girl truly isn't guilty, then it won't hurt for her to come back in. Maybe I'll even learn more about her resistance to magic."

Reuben turned toward Emrys and shook his head.

"Reuben," said Emrys softly, pulling away from him. "It's okay. I'll be fine."

Morgana found herself protesting as well: "Malin, please reconsider. Surely there must be another way to prove Emrys' innocence. We've already told you the truth."

"And there is still truth to be found," Malin replied, holding his hand out to Emrys.

"It's alright, princess," Emrys reassured her with a smile. "I have faith that my truth will be enough."

Morgana doubted that, but couldn't find the words to tell Emrys otherwise. How could she possibly tell Emrys she'd dreamt of her death? They'd both be brought in for questioning, and probably share the pyre.

"Come with me, now, girl," Malin ordered.

Reuben put his hand on Emrys' shoulder, keeping her from moving forward. "That won't be necessary."

Emrys glanced up at him in concern. "Reuben?"

Malin narrowed his eyes and said, "I grow tired of your constant impudence, boy. What must you say on her behalf now?"

"I'm the sorcerer you're looking for. I killed Heior."

"Reuben," Emrys screamed. "What are you doing?"

"The boy is lying," Silas said quickly.

"Why would he do such a thing," Malin asked with a malicious smile.

"Because he's in love with Emrys," Arthur blurted out. With a nervous laugh, he added, "It's obvious that the only magic happening here is the spell Emrys has placed over Reuben."

Morgana looked toward Emrys, who was glaring at the ground. She suddenly got the impression, as she watched the way Emrys and Reuben were reacting, that she and Arthur had been wrong.

"Reuben, look past your feelings and come to your senses. Emrys is innocent-a second questioning will prove that. There's no need to resort to such lies." Arthur looked toward Uther and said, "Father, please. Reuben has been a faithful and loyal servant for years. He's not a sorcerer."

Malin turned to Uther as well. "He said it of his own will, sire. I must act on this and determine for myself whether it is a lie or not."

Uther held Reuben's steady gaze for a moment and then moved his eyes to Silas. Morgana knew, without a doubt, that Uther was probably thinking of the relation between the two, and Silas' magical history. To the guards behind him, he said, "Seize him; Silas, remove Heior's body."

With a defeated look on his face, Silas said, "Yes, sire." Two of the guards helped him carry Heior out.

Malin's thin smile stretched across his face. "Finally," he muttered. "We're to head to my chambers for questioning. I'll return for the girl later." He turned and followed Uther out the stables.

"No," Emrys whispered, clutching Reuben's arm with a firm grasp. She tightened her grip as the knights came closer. "No, please. You can't take him! Reuben!"

Arthur stepped forward and grabbed Emrys by her shoulders, holding her back. Despite Emrys' attempts to break free and her desperate pleas, Arthur firmly held her in place, keeping a steady, but sorrowful gaze on his manservant. It was the same look, Morgana realized, that he wore when an execution took place.

When Reuben and the guards had disappeared back into the castle, Emrys sank to her knees with a sob. Morgana felt like collapsing herself.

Guinevere put her hand on Morgana's shoulder and tried to lead her away, but Morgana shook her head. "Morgana, you should rest now. It's been a long day," she insisted. "I would think it would be even longer tomorrow."

"I can't leave Emrys," Morgana whispered back.

"I'll handle this," Arthur promised. He placed his hands on Emrys' shoulders and tried to stand her up, but she leapt up on her own accord and swung her right fist at him. Though the quick movement had surprised Morgana, Arthur seemed more than prepared for the attack: he caught her hand and twisted it behind her back, drawing her close to him and rendering her helpless. "Stop," he said calmly as she struggled against him. "I know you're upset; I know you're angry. I-"

"Really?" Emrys managed, hissing with pain. "You couldn't possibly understand what I feel." She shook her shoulders, attempting to throw him off balance, but it didn't work. "Let go of me, Arthur Pendragon!"

"Not until you stop."

"Are you going to arrest me too if I don't?"

The question must've stunned Arthur, because his posture began to slack, and Emrys was able to break free. She spun around to face him, as he said, "No I won't do that."

Morgana took a small step forward and watched her brother carefully. "Arthur, what are you planning to do?"

With a grim face, Arthur said, "Something princes shouldn't do. I'm not going to watch a friend die. We'll find a way to prove Reuben's innocence."

Emrys seemed to settle after hearing that. "What?"

"Isn't that what you were going to do anyway?"

"Yes, but I didn't expect any help." Morgana was slightly hurt by this statement, but she recognized Emrys' logic. Even though, as a maidservant, she was close to her mistress, Emrys probably assumed that she could not count on the king's own daughter to go against him. "Why are you helping me?"

"I know I've given you both a hard time." Arthur started, "but I do believe in the love the two of you are trying to build. It would be tragic if it was torn apart by such violence."

Emrys laughed in spite of the situation. "I'm sorry, but I can't go along with this any longer. If you're doing this to protect some kind of young love story, you're going to be sorely disappointed."

"What do you mean?"

Emrys looked around the room and, after assessing everyone, said, "You aren't helping me rescue a lover; you're helping me save my brother."


	9. A Man's Fate (Arthur)

"Her brother," Gwaine asked, almost dropping his sharpened sword in the process. "You can't be serious."

Arthur rubbed the back of his neck and nodded. "Silas just confirmed it. They're all related."

"Reuben _did_ mention once that he had a younger sister," said Lancelot. "But I thought he said she was still in his hometown."

Percival grunted and spit on the ground beside him. "Apparently not anymore. I can't believe we didn't see it."

"It makes sense, though, why Reuben watched over her so much."

"And," said Gwaine, tilting his sword toward the other knights, "why he was always such a stiff when she was mentioned." He laughed suddenly and sat back. "Although maybe that was for my own good. Seems like it didn't end too well for the last guy who mentioned something about Emrys."

Arthur cleared his throat and raised a disapproving eyebrow at Gwaine, who sobered immediately. "I know you all must have mixed feelings right now, but I urge you all to focus on the situation at hand. We have a small window of time to prove Reuben's innocence. I don't know how long it will take Malin to come to a conclusion, but I doubt it'll be in our favor."

He stopped suddenly as the door to the armory opened. Emrys hurried through without even bothering to close the doors back. As she came closer to him, Arthur realized how exhausted Emrys looked. By his orders, she had returned to her duties and put Morgana to bed, giving Arthur time to find his knights and inform them of the current events. She had probably wasted little time in getting to Arthur, not even bothering to change into a new dress.

Through ragged breaths, Emrys managed to get out, "Have you come up with anything yet? What's the plan to save Reuben?"

He was almost afraid to tell her the truth, but he did it anyway: "There isn't one yet." Quickly, before the hope in her eyes could fade away, he added, "But we've got everyone on board and focused on the mission at hand. Won't be long now before we come up with a solution."

Despite hearing this, Emrys' shoulders fell as she said, "I fear we won't have much time."

Arthur put his hands on her forehands and gripped them tightly, making her look up at him. There were dark circles starting to form underneath her eyes. She would not make it much longer without sleep, and Arthur knew she would not sleep without her brother's safety secured. "Don't think like that."

"How else am I supposed to think? My brother is a _servant_, Arthur. If they come to a decision before we find a solution, his fate is set, and there will be no changing it."

It sickened Arthur to think that Emrys was right. If Malin got Reuben to confess, Uther's mind would never be changed. Arthur set his face determinedly and said, "I don't know much about fate, but it seems to me that anyone should be allowed to change theirs." Arthur began to blush when he heard one of the knights cough, but seeing Emrys encouraged made him forget about that. "No man should be denied his right to determine his own destiny. Not even a servant."

Arthur could sense Emrys' discomfort at being brought back into the stables, but she didn't complain. She must've realized it was necessary to their investigation. As the knights spread out across the stables, Arthur heard Gwaine mumble, "Why are we starting in here?"

"This is where the incident started," Arthur informed him.

"Are we supposed to recreate the scene then? Mind if I _don't_ play Heior?"

Emrys glared at Gwaine and said, "I'm going to assume that you're being glib in order to cope with the death of your friend."

"You'd be wrong, then, wench," Percival said. "Heior was not a friend to any of us."

"What do you mean? He was one of the knights, wasn't he?"

"Yes," Lancelot said carefully, "but we did not agree with his...behavior. This is not the first time something like this has happened, and, in a way, I'm glad an end has finally been put to it."

Emrys glanced up at Arthur, and he wondered if she wanted to know what he thought about the situation as well. Clearing his throat, Arthur said, "We should start looking for things that seem out of place."

Arthur watched Emrys cautiously move across the stables. The power that he normally felt from her seemed to have disappeared, which he assumed was partly due to the horses as well as sheer exhaustion from the day's events.

Of all people, he couldn't believe that his sister's maidservant had been blessed with magical resistance. He really didn't know much about fate, but he doubted it was merely a coincidence that this girl, born into peasantry, blessed with the power to repel magic, had found her way to the heart of Camelot, and had been assigned the role of his protectorate. He didn't like to admit it, but maybe it really had been the work of destiny that had brought Emrys to his side.

"Sire," said Percival suddenly, drawing Arthur away from his thoughts. "There's ash in this corner of the stables."

"Yes, yes," Arthur said dismissively. "Heior ran around after he was lit."

"But this is far from the trail of burnt hay on the ground."

Arthur turned and saw that Percival was right. His knight was standing in the back left corner of the stables, far from the scene. He bent down and picked up a singed strand of yellow thread.

"But that doesn't make any sense, when the trail obviously leads in the other direction," said Gwaine, making Arthur turn to look at him. "Was anyone over there?"

Arthur surveyed the room, taking into account the fact that Tristan was standing in the place Arthur had been during the incident. Now that he thought about it, the others had unknowingly recreated the setup of the scene, with Gwaine standing where Heior had been. And, from his current position, Arthur realized he would've remained unnoticed if he had not called attention to himself. "The sorcerer was standing here," Arthur deduced. "He was watching us the whole time."

Arthur tried to bring forth any details he might've missed before. When he had pulled Reuben off of Heior, what had happened next? All he could think about was the sight of Heior in flames; he willed himself to think of anything else.

"But if the sorcerer was there," Lancelot said, "why did he only attack Heior? Heior didn't even travel to the woods with us. And why did he wait in the stables, of all places?"

"Because he knew we would be there," Arthur whispered. He didn't know how he knew that, but somehow he knew that it was the truth.

"Why did Heior come all the way to the stables, anyway," said Tristan.

Arthur had assumed that Heior had brought Emrys there because she'd be easily subdued with her fear of horses. However, thinking about it now, the stables were a long way from Malin's chamber. "What was he thinking?"

"He was supposed to come to Malin's chambers for basic questioning after me," said Emrys, "but I think he drank too much and forgot the proper time."

Something wasn't adding up for Arthur. "Malin said Heior came with orders to bring you to the stables."

Emrys shook her head, saying, "That came later. He showed up saying that he thought he had an appointment, and when Malin told him otherwise, Heior said he would rather wait with me." She swallowed and looked away. "Among other things," she added quietly.

Arthur found himself looking away from embarrassment as well. Quickly, he cleared his throat and asked, "Then what?"

"Malin gave him some wine and then Heior was saying that you had called for me in the stables."

"That's it? He came, drank some wine, and then took you to the stables?" Arthur could feel the wheels turning in his head. "This doesn't make any sense. What did Malin do beforehand, when he was questioning you?"

"He asked me if I had any ties to magic, if I had ever practiced it, ever dabbled in it, or if I had ever even once been associated with a sorcerer."

Well, Arthur thought, of course she had, if she was truly related to Silas. Everyone in the castle knew that Silas was a magic defector. Arthur wondered if Emrys' relation to Silas would somehow explain her resistance to magic. He didn't say anything about it, though, for fear that he would reveal something about her uncle that she was not already aware of. It's just that I thought he normally didn't ask those questions unless he was certain he had caught a sorcerer. That's what he asked Oliver last time."

"And what happened to Oliver," Emrys asked quietly.

"The same thing that happens to all sorcerers who get caught in Camelot."

"So what does that mean for me?"

"It means," said Arthur, "that the sorcerer isn't the only one targeting you, Emrys."

Silas nodded as Arthur finished his tale. Looking at them with the information he knew now, Arthur could see how he hadn't noticed that relation before. Silas' skin was darker, a closer color to the wooden floorboards beneath them; Emrys' hair was wilder, though he assumed that if Silas' hair wasn't grey it would've been the same color. Their only similarity was their eyes. They both looked at things as if they saw it for more than the way it appeared in the world.

Silas turned his eyes on Emrys, who was sitting beside him, and said, "I fear we have our work cut out for us, my dear. If Malin has truly set his sights on you, then we must proceed with caution. We must find a way to free Reuben without incriminating you."

"And we still have to figure out who the sorcerer is," Arthur said.

"I suggest you stay low, Emrys. We don't need you drawing attention to yourself at this time."

"I think it's too late for that, Uncle," Emrys said with a sad smile. "The king knows about me now. There'll be no hiding; and even if I wanted to, I wouldn't be able to keep it up for long. It'll be better for everyone if I don't shy away from this."

There were times that Emrys surprised him with her wisdom. She was temperamental, rude, and a bit arrogant at times, but Arthur couldn't deny that there were moments when he was actually impressed by her.

Their conversation ended when Lancelot rushed in. "Sire," he said, after many huffs of breath. "Malin's finished with Reuben."

Emrys practically knocked Arthur to the ground in her attempt to get to the door first. However, with her torn dress, Arthur easily caught up with her. As they crossed the courtyard to the castle, the rising sun momentarily blinded Arthur, a reminder of how much long they had been up.

The thought occurred to him suddenly as they raced through the castle, that his father would not be particularly accepting of Emrys if she were to have one of her outbursts. It may, in fact, make matters worse for Reuben if Emrys could not control herself.

He reached out and spun her around by her shoulders as they came to a stop in front of the knights who guarded the main hall. "Emrys," he said slowly when she looked up at him in confusion, trying to find the proper way to say what he was thinking without her getting angry. "I think it would be better if you attended to Morgana at the moment."

"What? But I can't do that when my brother's in danger, sire."

"I know it's hard to hear this, but I urge you to think about what Reuben needs right now: my father in a pleased mood. This is a very vulnerable time for my father. It's early; he's tired, and probably very confused at this moment. He doesn't know what to think about Reuben, who's been a loyal servant for years, or you, whom we've just discovered is resistant to magic. If the wrong thing is said or done, Malin will have his way."

Emrys' face scrunched up in a frown, and for a moment, Arthur thought she might continue to argue with him. But to his surprise, she let go of her opposition with a heavy sigh and nodded.

"Thank you," he said, "for choosing the right thing."

"I'm choosing to trust you, _sire_," she replied. "I'm not sure that's the right thing yet." Without another word, Emrys did a quick bow of her head and headed off in the direction of the solar section.

Arthur hoped, with all of his heart, that he was right, and that this would all go well. He was more nervous, he realized, than when he had to make a speech. What he said or did now would determine the life of another, and Arthur wasn't sure he was ready to have all that weight on his shoulders just yet.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to look at Silas, who was smiling at him. "I know she may seem a little Thank you, sire."

With a deep breath and a swell of courage, Arthur nodded to the knights at the door and entered the great hall. The spectators had gathered on the sides, their heads respectfully bowed to hide their gossiping mouths. Reuben was on his knees before Uther, who was seated stiffly in his throne. Malin turned to look at Arthur, obviously annoyed, and Arthur wondered if he had interrupted the witch hunter in some speech.

"I had thought that everyone who desired to watch was already present," Malin snarled.

"Forgive me, Father," Arthur said loudly, dismissing Malin's statement. He strode across the room with his shoulders thrown back and his chin tilted up, trying to look as regal as he could. "I was investigating other matters."

"You shouldn't interrupt. Thanks to you, I have lost my train of thought. A sorcerer could go free because of you."

"A sorcerer _will_ go free if we condemn an innocent man in his place."

"Arthur, please," said Uther sternly. "Take your place and show respect Malin in this court. Malin, if you can, continue."

It took all of Arthur's might to bow his head at Malin and go stand beside his father. He kept his eyes on Reuben, hoping that his manservant would not give up hope. Reuben did not look too terrible, aside from obviously being in desperate need of sleep. He didn't know what Malin had done during Reuben's questioning, but it didn't seem like any extreme measures had been taken.

Holding Arthur in his icy gaze, Malin announced loudly, "As I was saying, before I was so rudely interrupted, we must remain vigilant if we are to keep magic out of Camelot. There have been too many happenings that have remained unchecked, and now one of our own has been killed by it. Magic causes chaos; it has destroyed many kingdoms, and will not stop until Camelot has fallen."

As the crowd began to murmur amongst them, Malin turned and extended his hand to Reuben. "I have determined this boy to be a sorcerer, the very one responsible for the fire that killed Heior."

Arthur couldn't help himself. He saw his chance to keep his promise to Emrys disappearing fast. In a moment of panic and desperation, he stood up and yelled, "This is ridiculous!" When Uther ordered him to be silent, Arthur said, "Father, please, listen to reason. This story doesn't make any sense. Reuben's been with us for ten years; I think I would know if he had magic. On what grounds does Malin stand for this accusation?"

Malin smiled and went to stand behind Reuben, who lowered his gaze to the floor. "He confessed the truth of his sin to me."

To his surprise, Arthur found himself saying, "Are you sure his confession was of his own will?"

The witch hunter pointed the end of his cane at Arthur, forcing the prince to stare down its length. "Are you questioning me, boy? My methods are infallible."

Malin's cane was made of dogwood, but the bottom of it had been charred. No doubt by Malin using it to stoke the fire in his room. Somehow that thought didn't sit well with Arthur; he knew he was wrong. Keeping his eyes steady on the end of Malin's cane, Arthur replied, "I am merely saying that I have personally witnessed your methods, and they tend to produce results, but not answers."

Malin squared his jaw and prodded Reuben in the back with his cane. "You want answers? Fine. Tell them. Admit what you confessed to me."

Reuben looked at no one. His eyes remained glued to the floor in the awful silence that followed. Then, finally, slowly, Reuben blinked and spoke: "I-I confess to it all. I am the sorcerer you're looking for."

Though Reuben's voice had barely been above a whisper, it may as well have been shouted out to the entire court. Silas looked mortified and genuinely confused; the spectators were frightened; Uther had clenched his hands into fists; and Arthur could feel his own heart sinking.

Malin smiled and raised his voice to speak. "He confesses. So you are, in fact, the very sorcerer who killed Heior?"

"Yes."

"And are you not also the sorcerer who created the curse that almost killed Morgana?"

"Yes."

"He's lying," Arthur proclaimed. "I know he's lying. Reuben himself was almost killed by that sickness. Why would a sorcerer endanger his own life?"

"I've seen many inexperienced sorcerers unintentionally injure themselves by performing spells outside of their mastery," said Malin. "It is quite possible he accidentally infected himself after targeting the princess."

"You targeted my daughter," Uther asked, his voice immediately silencing the court.

In the moment that Reuben looked up to meet Uther's glare, Arthur realized that Reuben truly was lying. Even when Reuben said that he had gone after Morgana, Arthur knew that what Reuben was saying in front of the court, in front of his father, was not true. Reuben was very obviously lying, and Arthur was going to figure out why.

"He admits it, sire," Malin exclaimed. "We have a confirmed sorcerer in our grasp. We _must_ act!"

Uther remained silent for a while, before he turned to the rest of the court and proclaimed, "I find you guilty of witchcraft and sorcery and charge you with the highest account of treason against Camelot. You will be executed at dawn tomorrow."

The courts' whispers escalated as Reuben was seized and led out by the guards. Malin turned around with a smile of malice, but Arthur was not focused on the witch hunter's gloating. Instead, his attention was drawn to the small opening in door to the servants' entrance. He knew, before she even caught his eye, that Emrys was standing behind that door.

Without giving much thought to his father, Arthur made his way for the exit. He closed the door behind him, encasing them in the darkness of the staircase. He placed his hand over her mouth and shushed her before she could begin to yell at him. "I know, I know," he whispered earnestly. He couldn't see her eyes this time, but he hoped that she could still feel the resolve of his words. "Just shut up and follow me."

He grabbed her wrist and headed down the stairs, counting the steps in his head until he would have to change directions. Every so often they passed by a window, which offered some light, and helped Arthur realize where he was going. When they came to a large, old, wooden door, Arthur dropped Emrys' wrist.

"Why did you bring me to the dungeons," Emrys asked.

Arthur pushed open the door and listened for other voices before turning around to tell Emrys, "To see your brother. Come on."

Arthur had never been more grateful for the authority that came with his natural position than he was when he was able to command the guards to stand down and let him and Emrys pass. His anxiety and dread were immediately relieved when he saw Emrys and Reuben sink to their knees as they embraced each other.

"They wouldn't let me see you while you were with Malin," she told him. "Did he do anything to you?"

"I'm okay, Emrys," Reuben assured her.

"How can you be? You've been sentenced to…" That was as far as she got before she burst into hysterical tears and buried her face in his chest. "This all my fault. Malin's after me, not you. Why did you say that you killed Heior?"

"It's like you said-Malin is after you. I saw what he did last time."

Arthur found himself stepping forward in disbelief. "You really did lie."

"Why not just tell the truth," Emrys asked. "You still have a chance to take this all back."

Reuben shook his head. "I won't do it, Emrys. I can't."

"You don't _want_ to? Do you _want_ to die, then?"

"No, but die I will if it means Malin won't come after you. You don't know what he's like, Emrys. Malin will manipulate and humiliate you until he has incriminated you."

Arthur's ears pricked suddenly. "What was your interrogation like, Reuben? What did Malin do?"

Reuben frowned, as if he were in deep thought. "He sat me down and asked me questions."

"What questions?"

"For how long did I claim to be a sorcerer? Was I really Emrys' brother? Did I want anything to drink?"

"What? Malin offered you something to drink? I've heard him tell my father that he refuses his suspects food or drink until he's done."

"Well, he didn't refuse me anything. As a matter of fact, he insisted and almost forced me to drink some wine."

Emrys' body snapped up. "Wine? Does Malin just offer everyone he questions wine? Is he some kind of drunkard?"

"Emrys," Reuben hissed. Even in his current state, Arthur was amused to find that Reuben still valued proper etiquette.

"No," said Arthur. "Malin doesn't...drink." His nose scrunched up in a frown. "Malin doesn't drink. He has no need for wine. And it seems like every time he gives someone a drink, something happens to them."

"What are you saying, sire?"

"People do things out of character after drinking his wine. Heior…" Arthur found himself blushing and cleared his throat instead. "Well, we know what Heior did."

"But that's not too far out of Heior's character, sire."

"But it is. Heior has always waited to do his deeds in the dark. Heior would never risk such an act when the castle was still awake." Arthur's heart began to pound as he thought back to all the clues from earlier. "And you can't lie, Reuben. I've known you for ten years-you're horrible at it. You would never lie to my father's face like that."

Reuben looked away as if he was embarrassed, and Arthur caught sight of a strand of golden thread resting on top of his shoulder. "You're right, but I still don't understand what you're getting at."

Not too long ago, Arthur had overheard Silas and his father discuss the power of sorcerers over the mind. It was possible for sorcerers like Noren to control the minds of others with nothing other than spells, but sometimes certain spells were made more powerful by attaching them to another object...like wine.

"Malin has magic."


End file.
